|The Reading Room|
I was in the reading room on the ground floor of my dormitory block, when I received a call from my mother. It struck me as weird, as I had only sent her a text asking her to check whether the deadline of the KFC Star Create competition falls on the 15th, and she, being the typical cheapskate when it comes to words, would reply one word; ‘yes’ or ‘no’. I picked up the call, and surprise, surprise, my sister’s voice rang into one ear and out the other, screaming ‘Happy 17th birthday, Abang!’ Utterly surprised, I was, and glancing at my watch, I realised that indeed, the long hand struck 12. Now, now, before you say it’s impossible to forget one’s birthday, I did know it’d be my birthday, but as I’d been complete absorbed in checking my essay during the whole hour prior that, I’d completely forgotten. After chatting with my family underneath the coffee table (The school rules states in black and white that phones are forbidden.), I took out my parents’ gift given to me a few days earlier, on a Wednesday, since they couldn’t be with me on my special day (A solid reason why I shouldn’t be able to forget my birthday.) – a brand new, glossy red camera!
And that was why I wiped off my birth date from my Facebook account temporarily. That, and another reason; to find out whether anyone would care enough to remember my birthdate. It was a regrettable action, seeing as none of my friends bothered to wish me a happy birthday. Well, one did, a close friend and a sensei of mine, but it was a tad late, but I don’t mind. All the wishes I received were from family members. Well, serves me right for being curious. But at least I knew how dependant people are for Facebook.
At the end of the day, no one dangerous knew it was my birthday. Yeah, my close schoolmates knew my birthday, but they