One - Birthday

September 18th — three months earlier

Beams of sunlight streamed through my window; the slats of my blinds chopping it into a myriad of rays that lazily slid across my quiet room.

The whir of the ceiling fan was the only source of sound, a soft and lulling noise that almost made me want to go back to sleep.

The blankets on my bed felt warm and soft against my skin and the sound of a lawnmower picked up outside. — no doubt one of the neighbors is hoping to get some yard work done.

It was a Saturday right in the middle of September — the welcome transition between summer and fall when the weather was neither hot nor cold, just pleasant.

The eighteenth of September; a few days away from the twenty-first, the technical first day of autumn, yet the sun shined outside as if it couldn't care less.

The eighteenth of September. My birthday.

I pushed myself out of bed, lifting my arms above my head to stretch them out. I didn't feel any older. But I guess you never do feel older just like that,it's a gradual thing. I had been eighteen yesterday and I was nineteen today, but that was about the only thing that had changed overnight.

I went about getting myself ready for the day, wondering if there was anything special cooked for breakfast, and wondering what gifts I would receive.

I was particularly looking forward to finding out what my stepsister, Nova, had gotten me. She was eight years old, and she always found something heartwarming to give me as gifts, whether it be for the holidays, my birthday, or just because she wanted to give me something.

What would she give me today?

I ran my fingers through my hair while I opened the blinds on my window, no longer restricting the blazing sunlight. My room was instantly bathed in a bright wash of light, the sun a shining white ball hoisted into the clear blue sky.

It was a particularly sunny day, I noted, for this time of year, even if the weather was mostly pleasant in these weeks.

Usually the sky was dotted with fluffy clouds here and there, but today it was completely clear, an infinite stretch of blue above the Earth. I was by no means complaining — It was a beautiful day, only adding to my excitable mood about turning nineteen.

I walked from my room and went down the steps, pulling my shoes on as I went. I heard voices from the kitchen as I paced through the living room, opening the kitchen door and entering.

The room was in chaos; my stepmother chattering on her cellphone and Nova sitting at the table with a poptart in each hand, my father nowhere to be seen. 

Jenny, my stepmother's stylist, stood watching her stalk back and forth across the tiled floor of the kitchen, a clipboard resting in her arm.

Someone from a catering company stood talking to our routine party planner, and suddenly all the commotion caused me to remember just what time of year it was.

Campaign season.

My father was the mayor of Madison, Oregon, the quaint town which was an hour and a half south of Eugene and two and a half hours south of Portland.

He had held office for just past ten years now — Which wasn't uncommon for a small town,considering each term lasted five years.

Now, this September is the fifth year of his second term. — It was time for him to either be reelected a third time or for someone new to take office.

This meant my stepmother was in full first lady mode, organizing banquets, parties, and collecting more campaign funds, even though everyone liked my father as mayor and it wouldn't be hard for him to be reelected. Still she had people at our house every day, charming them and inviting them to have tea on our back porch.

My father was good at politics, but it was my stepmother that did the true campaigning. — And along with the campaigning came Nova and I being forced into pretty dresses and to stand with our family with bright smiles on our faces, with no mischief allowed whatsoever.

I was the mayor's daughter-his only biological

one, to add to that. I was expected to be prim and proper and pretty.

The fact was, though, I was none of that.

I didn't like dresses, I didn't like drinking fancy tea — I'd much rather be drinking water and I certainly didn't like being bossed around by my stepmother to stand here or shake so-and-so's hand and be charismatic.

I did not want to be the stereotypical politician's daughter, but it was apparent that's what my stepmother wanted me to be.

It's not like it was a large town my father was governing anyway.

So now I stood in the busy kitchen, unnoticed by any of its prior inhabitants. My stepmother still spoke into her phone, all of the various planners stood obediently waiting for her, and Nova still sat at the table, biting into her second poptart.

Nova looked up as she was chewing, eyes landing

on me and a smile illuminating her face at once. I smiled back at her knowing she was not speaking due to her current consumption of the poptart.

A few moments later, my stepmother caught sight of me and snapped her phone shut. "Luna, great, you're awake. Nova and I have to go get our dresses fitted for the party tomorrow night, and your father's at the office already. You got your dress fitted last week, right?"

I nodded slowly.

"Perfect. All of us have hair appointments tomorrow at two. Lots of important funds could be gained at tomorrow's party, girls, remember that. The more funds, the better your father's campaign." She smiled, letting out a sigh.

"Now. Nova, let's get going, we don't want to be late. Luna, if you wouldn't mind making sure everyone here is on track, that would be fantastic." She gestured to the stylist, caterer and party planner.

I nodded again and just like that everyone burst back into motion, Nova following my stepmother out the back kitchen door —still eating her poptart.

Everyone else moved through the house toward the backyard where the party would take place.

I was alone in the kitchen and it took me a second to realize my birthday had just been completely overlooked.

My stepmother was an organized, efficient woman, and I knew she did love my father and that's why she took control of his campaigns. She wanted the best for him and our family. I had to understand that. I also knew it wouldn't be long until I would go to college, anyway; I was taking a year off between my senior year of high school and my first year of college. It was mostly for Nova.

I didn't want to leave her just yet. We were very close, despite not being genetically related. I just needed another year before going right into college, and then, I'd be just fine.

I was still standing alone in the kitchen, wondering what to do now. I knew my stepmother would have wanted me to stay and oversee everything going on in the backyard, but suddenly I felt I did not want to do that. It was my nineteenth birthday.

How many other nineteenth birthdays was I going to have?

I didn't want to spend it watching the party planner and the caterer argue over what hors d'oeuvres to serve.

Not a chance.

I decided to pay a visit to my father, and grabbed a light jacket in case the air was crisp outside.

My father's office was in City Hall, on Main Street, only a few blocks away from our home. It overlooked Madison Park, the biggest green space in town. It was very pretty, with its small stream cutting through it and its grass field where you almost always saw someone playing Frisbee with their dog.

Everything in Madison was within walking distance. Hardly anyone owned a car. The air was clear and the sidewalks were busy, and the streets were mostly occupied by bicyclists. I liked that about Madison.

It only took me a few minutes to get to City Hall, where I nodded to the lady behind the information front desk — whose name I still don't know, even after ten years. I stepped into the elevator to take me to the sixth floor.

The elevator dinged at my floor and I walked out, knocking lightly on the door of my father's office before stepping inside.

His office, as I said, looked over Madison Park out of a big picture window, specifically at the park's large central fountain.

In the warmest summer days, kids gathered to play in the fountain, the regulation of no playing in the fountain was stripped by my dad six years ago when Nova and I expressed our immense fondness for the refreshing public geyser. 

No one was playing there today, though; the end of

August brought the end of the days hot enough to want to cool off.

The office itself was decorated as you would expect any politician's office to be decorated; Wood paneling and a large rug and a big oak desk.

My dad was turned toward the window, arms crossed over his chest, his face blank as he stared out.

I shut the door softly behind me and he turned, a small smile crossing his face.

"Morning Luna," he said. "Your stepmother sent you to look after me? Make sure I'm on task?"

I shook my head. "She actually went to get her dress fitted and Nova's too. I'm supposed to be back at the house monitoring the party setup, but that's boring."

"Right. Ah, don't you love campaigning?"

I sat down in the chair across from his desk, picking at the chipped nail polish on my fingernails. I was sure Genevieve, my stepmother, would want them repainted by tomorrow, although who would really care about how my nails look at the party slightly baffled me.

"How are things here?" I asked my dad, resting my chin in my palm and giving up on ridding my fingernails of their red polish.

"Busy, as you can imagine," he sighed, sitting down in his chair behind the desk. "My phone doesn't shut up. I hate my ringtone by now and honestly I'd be a very happy man if it mysteriously broke."

"Let me guess," I said. "Ninety percent of your calls are from Genevieve."

"You know how she gets. I wouldn't be half the socialite I am without all of her planning."

"Is that necessarily a bad thing?"

He chuckled lightly. "I won't answer that."

I stared at my father, wondering if my birthday had eluded him too.

I was nineteen today, and I seemed to be the only one who knew that.

"Dad, what's the date today?" I asked quietly.

He furrowed his brow. "The date? It's Septem-" His phone began ringing loudly from his desk, scaring us both.

He slid it open, putting it to his ear. "This is Jonathan Allen. No, I'm not in a meeting. I was just speaking to my daughter- fifteen thousand dollars? That's quite generous of Mr.Kessler. Please give him my thanks. I'll direct you to my manager of campaign funds, hold on…"

I didn't sit there any longer, quietly standing and slipping out of the office, unnoticed.

I knew my father was a busy man.

I walked down Main Street and thought about how I was alone and had nothing to do on my birthday. I didn't want to be whiny about it.

I knew campaign season was hectic and busy for everyone, and I should be trying to help out, but I couldn't find it within myself to want to do anything at all.

For a second I let myself throw a little pity party,

frowning at the fact that my family had not remembered that today was supposed to be my day — And then I stopped reveling in self remorse and continued to walk down Main Street.

I walked Main Street until I reached the edge of town, where the forest started. The trees stood tall before me, like green soldiers lined up to guard the interior of the woods.

The tips of them touched the blue sky, the brown path starting at the foot of them.

I took a breath and broke into a run, the trees quick to blur in my peripheral vision as I jogged down the path. This is what I did when I had time on my hands — I ran through the forest.

Genevieve tried to tell me, multiple times, that it was dangerous for me to run through the woods alone. Nova always asked if I had seen any deer or squirrels or other animals while I was running.

My father didn't care too much if I ran through the woods; as long as I was getting my exercise he was fine with it.

Today I ran through the trees with no direction or purpose.

My eyes unfocused and I simply ran mindlessly, trying to not think about how it's the eighteenth of September and nobody seems to care. Instead I breathed in the fresh forest air and the smell of pine needles and soil, hearing my shoes thump lightly against the dirt path.

I just followed the path, not paying attention to my surroundings very acutely. I ran with the path for a while before steering myself off of it, jogging through the soft mossy floor, careful to dodge trees that grew closer together. I continue to run thoughtlessly.

After running for who knows how long, I tired out and stopped. I leaned against the trunk of a tree, putting my hands on my knees and catching my breath. Once my breathing had returned to relatively normal speed, I looked up and realized I had no idea where I was.

I knew this forest, don't get me wrong. But I didn't often go off the path, and most times when I ran through here I was alert, my senses sharp.

It wasn't often that I ran mindlessly, as I had just done.

And now I was lost.

I slumped down against the tree, sitting myself on the soft forest floor. I heard some birds chirping in the distance and the soft rustling of the wind through the trees. I decided that I wanted to just sit there for a while. Then I would try to find my way back.

A tiny ladybug landed on my hand, its black spots greatly contrasting to its vibrant crimson back. Its little legs tickled my skin as it crawled around my hand, extracting a small smile from me.

Lady bugs were my favorite insect — If I had to pick one. I wasn't particularly fond of anything creepy-crawly, but I surely didn't mind a ladybug here and there.

I watched the little beetle move over me, not paying attention to the rustling leaves behind me until a deep voice startled me out of my daze.

"Don't move."

I jumped slightly with the sudden sound, almost brushing the ladybug from me in surprise. Someone stepped around the back of the tree I was sitting against, leaning down to look at my hand.