Dining with the Enemy

In exactly fifteen days it will be my sixteenth birthday.
Most nearly-sixteen year olds would be excited by this; their finally becoming legal blah, blah, blah. But for me, it'll be just another day. The only birthday I've ever gotten excited over was one exactly ten years ago. Yes, my sixth birthday was cause for celebration. Why? I spent it at Whacky Warehouse with my then-best-friends.

Surprisingly enough, a lot has happened in ten years time. For one, I'm now no longer allowed in most Whacky Warehouse's as I'm "too big". I've also descovered that sex, smoking, drinking and all other "grown up" things, are given too big a press. They're so mundane and boring. I'd much rather be able to run around playing kiss chase, tag and kirby than take a toke on a spliff and get high on a bench.

Well, actually, that's a lie. Either of those things I'd happily do. People always talk about how turning sixteen is like you becoming an adult.. Thing is.. I don't feel any different to how I normally do. Whilst I'm half-thinking about moving up to college, I'm still the girl I was ten years ago who wants to go out and play tag and not care about hair, make-up, or muddy knees.

I suppose that whilst I'm not excited for my birthday, I'm not dreading it either.
The thing I am dreading (with all my heart, soul, and ounce of me) is the birthday meal my father's girlfriend seems to want me to go on. Now, as much as I get on with her, it's a completely different story for her daughters. One (we'll call her Rhi) hates my guts because she is a chav and I'm well.. I'm "not normal" to quote her. The other (we'll call her Lhi) seems to have no opinion on me, and generally doesn't care. As you may've guessed, I preffer Lhi to Rhi, but they're still both horrid.

And my father is insisting upon a birthday meal. With both of them. I'm sorry, father, but my birthdays are shitty enough without me having to spend them with people who verbally, physically and obviously hate me.