11 Birthdays

I was a child who was born in a vocational school's toilet. To my mom, I was a stain in her life that she was given birth to after having her cherry popped by a delinquent when she was still young. I knew that Mom had been trying to kill me. Unfortunately, she hadn't succeeded so far. The first time she tried to get rid of me was when she decided to give birth to me in the toilet. It was a cold, winter month, yet she didn't give me anything warm to wear. The second time she attempted murder was when she got into grad school, which was based in the north. No one was around to take care of me, so she turned on the gas while holding me in her arms and clutching her train ticket. The third and last time happened when Mom was about to marry the man she loved. On the night before her wedding, she had tears streaming down her cheeks as she told me, "You're nothing but a burden. You ruined my life! "Do you know that I can only forget about all the pain and suffering you caused me after you die? Only then can I start a brand new chapter in my life!" I wiped Mom's tears off her face with my tiny hand. So, her wish was for me to die. On my birthday, my fever hit 104 degrees Fahrenheit. That was when I finally received the first slice of birthday cake in my entire life. I didn't have the heart to eat it, so I made my wish solemnly. "I hope that I will die soon." I heard that birthday wishes often came true. That way, Mom would be very happy.

My name and the name of my girlfriend's assistant, who was in a lower grade than us, were homophonic. His last name was Reid, whereas mine was Reed. Shawn Reid mixed up our names yet again at the joint bachelor-bachelorette party the office was throwing for Anne Nash and me. Everyone was cheering and jeering at us as the banner celebrating the end of Anne's and my singlehood was unfurled. Someone read it aloud. “Congratulations to Anne and Shawn. Wishing you eternal happiness together!” The private room was plunged into silence. Shawn spoke cautiously. “Sorry, Sean. I accidentally got it wrong again.” I said nothing and turned to look at Anne. She didn’t even bat an eyelash and instead comforted Shawn. “It’s no big deal. He won’t mind.” Then, she walked over to stand in front of Sean while she confronted me. Just like every other time, she shielded Shawn behind her, looking at me with the same warning gaze. “Sean, it’s only a banner. “Shawny didn’t do it on purpose. “After all, everyone knows today it’s about us. Don’t sweat the small stuff, alright?”

When I found out about Kenneth Hale, I didn’t argue with Claire O’Neill. I simply handed her the divorce papers. Her eyes turned red as she sat there. After struggling with the decision for a moment, she tore them up. "Give me ten days. I’ll send Kenneth far away, and he’ll never appear in our lives again." So over the next ten days, Claire went whitewater rafting with him, climbed snow-covered mountains, bungee jumped, and went skydiving. They did every thrilling thing they could think of. They watched the sunrise together by the ocean and went to Silver Pines Retreat to meditate, filling those days with every romantic experience imaginable. Then, on the ninth night, after I had packed all my belongings, I accidentally answered a video call from myself ten years in the past. "You really are me ten years from now! Then Claire and I must already be married with kids, right?" Pain flickered in my eyes. I walked straight onto the balcony and pointed the camera down at Claire and Kenneth, who were holding each other tightly, unable to let go. "This is what happens." Finley Morton looked as if he’d been struck by lightning. "That’s impossible…" My voice was exhausted, as though every last bit of strength had been drained from me. "Finley, please. Don’t marry her."

On our wedding anniversary, I canceled all my meetings and made a reservation at a restaurant. That evening, my wife, the renowned investigative journalist Amaya Shaw, called me. “Efim, I’m sorry! I just received a tip from a source. It’s urgent. “It involves inside information about a well-known company. I have to go verify it immediately!” But the next day, I saw that Javor Furey, the junior she had brought along, had posted a collage on his social media. The central photo showed Amaya wearing a childish birthday hat. Her head was pressed against Javor’s, as they made a wish together in front of a cake covered in candles. This was the caption. [Thanks, my dear Ms. Shaw! Even in the midst of her busy schedule chasing big stories, she remembered to give me this surprise birthday!] [Chasing big stories.] I stared at those three words. Then, I glanced at the limited-edition bag on our dining table. It was the one she had been raving about for half a year. It was the anniversary gift I had prepared for her. I felt absurd. I commented just two words under that post. [How touching.] Her call came in almost the second I hit send. She sounded furious. “Efim, do you have to be so sarcastic? “It’s just an anniversary. How old are you? Why are you still celebrating such childish anniversaries?” From our first year of marriage to the present, her “tip-offs from informants” and “special circumstances” always took precedence over our promises. This time, she could not even be bothered to come up with a plausible excuse. I did not say anything. I hung up and blocked her number. This marriage was over.

I agree to marry a stranger to save the only family I've ever known and I keep telling myself it's only a marriage of convenience. “Just this one sacrifice for my family.” But minutes after I become his wife, armed men storm the reception and slaughter my family before my eyes. I barely have time to scream before my husband drags me away and when I demand to know why they murdered my parents, he doesn't comfort me. He laughs. "Stop crying. They were never your real parents." My entire world shatters. Then he delivers another sentence that changes everything. "And my twin brother won't appreciate his bride wasting tears on people who sold her." Twin brother’s Bride? But before I can make sense of he's words, I discover vampires aren't fairy tales…..They're real. And they've spent eight lifetimes searching for me and i have eighteen days before my eighteenth birthday. If my hidden power doesn't awaken before then… “their curse will become permanent.” But no one tells me the most terrifying part of the prophecy. Breaking the curse will save only one twin. The other will die forever.

On the anniversary of my mother’s death, my girlfriend told me she had to work overtime. However, her first love later posted something on social media: [Thanks to Camelia for coming to celebrate my birthday with me!] My chest tightened and my hands shook as I called her to demand an explanation. She replied calmly, “It’s Grayson’s 25th birthday today. It’s important. I didn’t want to miss it.” That was it. I let out a bitter laugh and looked down at the cancer diagnosis report in my hand. It was alright. I would be dead soon anyway.