"Hey baby. Happy Birthday!"
Shania smiled upon hearing Paul's voice over the phone. It's half past midnight and she was just starting to fall asleep when her phone rang. Her boyfriend has always been so sweet, and Shania felt so lucky to have him.
"Thank you. And don't forget to come over for my party!" she said with a pout, as if the person on the other line could see it.
"Of course I will. I promise. Go to sleep now, princess. I'll see you later."
They said their goodbyes and hanged up.
The party started at exactly 5pm and Shania buzzed around, greeting all her visitors. Paul arrived just in time and looked distressed but managed to flash a smile when Shania saw him.
"Hi baby! I'm so glad you're here. Wait, are you alright?" Shania asked when she noticed her boyfriend's unusual aura.
"I'm totally fine! Happy Birthday baby." He said as he handed her a beautifully wrapped present.
"Oh my God! You didn't have to do this. But thank you, anyway. You want to eat anything?"
"No, thanks. I just want to spend time with you."
"Well, I insist. Come on, let me get you a plate."
Just as Shania turned to get some plates, the lights went out and the festive music died. She was starting to panic when she felt a cold hand gripped her arm.
"Stay here, I'll go get some candles." Paul whispered to calm her down.
"Okay. It's in the kitchen, far-left cupboard."
"I'll be right back."
Shania sat in the nearest couch and was quite startled when her phone rang. It was Paul's mom. She picked it up right away.
"Hi Carol! How are you? Paul said you couldn't come here. Are you alright?"
Silence. Shania started to feel that something wasn't right.
"Hello? Carol?"
"Honey, Paul's dead." Carol said as she started to sob. "He was hit by a car on his way to your house. Please come here. We're at the hospital."
Shania felt an overwhelming fear crept down her spine. She struggled to find her voice.
"b-But that's impossible. P-paul's right here. He just went to the kitchen and-- and--" Shania dropped her phone and blindly ran to the kitchen. Some of her friends who heard the conversation followed her.
She abruptly stopped when she saw Paul, his back is turned to her. The candles in front of him flickered delightfully.
"Paul!" Shania called out to him. "You--You're mom called me."
Paul didn't respond. He continued lighting the candles in front of him.
"Baby, please. Tell me what's happening!"
Shania said, almost pleading. Tears started to fall uncontrollably from her eyes. Even the thought of losing him is unbearable.
Slowly, Paul turned to face her. Shania froze in terror. His face is barely recognizable. His right eye almost popped out of its socket. The blood all over his shirt tells her that he died tragically.
Shania's friends all screamed in fear and disgust, running away from the figure.
But she couldn't even move single nerve. Paul walked towards her as his face started to look normal. Even the blood on his shirt faded away.
He carefully touched her face with the back of his palm, wanting to ease her pain and grief.
"W-why? Why did you still come? What happened? This is all my fault." She said, still in disbelief that she may not see him ever again.
Paul wiped her tears and held her close, a sad smile crept on his face.
"Because I promised you, remember? Stop crying. I will always be here. I love you."
Shania embraced him as tight as she could, not wanting the night to end. Death didn't stop Paul from keeping his promise and Shania knew that she will never love anyone else as much as she loved him.
"I love you too, baby. I love you too."
Hello everyone! I hope you liked this story.
Thanks for reading!
Phew this gave me goosebumps - Love your writing. Resteeming
Thank you so much @anneke!
Whether approaching thirty, hitting forty or heading for ninety, Birthdays can be fraught affairs. Birthdays are a source of inspiration, desperation and clever deception in this entertaining short story collection from best-selling novelist Jane Wenham-Jones. With laughter, tears, cake and champagne - these five Birthday tales will leave you longing to blow out some candles of your own...
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Only just saw your post. Why is it that sad stories touch us more deeply than happy ones do?
Thanks.