Extraits

|| Je me demande souvent ce qui pousse les gens à prendre une décision plutôt qu’une autre. Est-ce dû à notre éducation ou à notre propre volonté ? Sommes nous les maîtres de notre destin ou de simples pantins ? ||

I remember pink and white birthday balloons floating around the room, red streamers hanging from the ceiling, and gold wrapping paper balled up on the floor. The way the flames of the candles danced and the trail of smoke flowed up to the ceiling. My mom on the other side of the table, with a camera in her hand and a smile on her face as she clicked the button over and over again. The flash hit my eyes and I kept blinking, wishing she’d stop taking pictures that would forever mark this God damn day.

“Make a wish, sweetie,” she said and the camera flashed again, lighting up the face of the people that surrounded the table.

I stared at the pink frosting, the “Happy Birthday Callie” Make a wish?

A red balloon floated over the table, slowly, up and down, up and down.

“Make a wish, Callie,” my mom repeated as the balloon moved over her shoulder.

Everyone was watching me, like they could see that I wasn’t whole anymore.

Make a wish? Make a wish?

The balloon popped.

There are no such things as wishes.

It’s amazing how the things you remember forever are the things you’d rather forget and the things you desperately want to grasp onto seem to slip away like sand in the wind. I remember everything about that day, like the images have been burned into my brain by a branding iron. But I wish they would blow away in the wind.