ELARA
My birthday always started the same way. With a warm necklace. It had been like that every single year.
When I was little, it would warm, and I would only feel weak. That was it. Simple. But as I grew older, it added things. Weakness. Then dizziness. Then fatigue. Then headaches. The warmth never changed. Just the symptoms.
Today I felt all of it. But something else too. Something I couldn't name. And that bothered me more than the dizziness.
Mom kept talking, but her voice felt distant, like I was underwater.
We decided to keep the party small this year — just my family and Iris with her parents. That was enough for me. They were coming around six, so I had time to get ready and try to look like nothing was wrong. I tried helping Mom until four. Big mistake. I kept getting in her way. Dropping things. Snapping. Shouting for no reason. At one point I threw a spoon across the counter. So I retreated to the living room to sit with Grandma.
Another mistake.
She wouldn't stop asking questions. What do you want to do with your life? Now that you're legally an adult, what are your plans? University? Work? Travel?
If I listened to my brain right now, I'd probably be in jail. I can't even control my emotions half the time — thank God I haven't killed anyone. Sometimes I'm not far from it. Right now, I want to strangle her just for some peace and quiet.
"Grandma… I'm going to my room," I said.
"Don't. Stay here where we can keep an eye on you."
"Nothing will happen. I just want to lie down until four."
She grabbed my wrist lightly when I tried to stand. "Stay. Something isn't right."
"Every year I feel like this."
"This time is different."
I paused.
She wasn't wrong. I was weaker than usual. My skin burnt like I had a fever. My thoughts lagged half a second behind everything.
On birthdays, my necklace was warm. But on other random days, when it burnt hot, I would lose control of my body. That difference always felt wrong.
"I don't know," Grandma muttered, brushing her hand over my forehead. "You're burning up."
"I think I have a fever."
I stood up abruptly and went upstairs. She called after me, but I ignored her. In my room, I shut the door and slid down against it until I was sitting on the floor. I felt terrible. Like I wanted to crawl out of my own skin. If I could peel it off, I would.
Why does this always happen on my birthday? What is wrong with me?
Knock knock.
"Come in."
Iris stepped inside. "Are you ready?"
"What time is it?"
"Five."
"What? How long was I sitting here?"
"Are you okay?" she asked softly.
"I'm fine," I said too quickly, standing and grabbing my black dress.
"You look like you cried."
"Did I?"
I didn't remember crying. I stepped in front of the mirror. The girl staring back looked pale. Hollow. Like a ghost that had been run over five times.
"Wow. I look awful."
"You feel weak?"
"Yeah. But I'll manage."
I put the dress on and sat down to do my makeup.
"Let me help you, birthday girl," she said, smiling.
I smiled faintly back. I was grateful for her. No matter how unstable I was, she stayed.
We went downstairs around six. I greeted her parents with a smile, and we moved outside to the garden. Mom had decorated the table with balloons – different colours. It looked nice. Almost normal.
"Mom, what should I help with?" I asked as she carried snacks and glasses at the same time.
"It's okay, sweetheart. Just sit."
"Let me help."
I grabbed a few cups. Bad idea. One slipped and shattered on the ground.
"Fuck," I muttered, kneeling to pick up the pieces.
"Sit down," Mom said sharply.
"I dropped it. I'll clean it."
She tried to move my hand away. The glass sliced my finger.
"Ah!"
"Did you cut yourself?" Iris rushed forward.
"I'm fine," I said too fast, standing abruptly. "It's nothing. I'll put a plaster on."
I went straight to the bathroom. I washed the cut. It should have healed by now. It always did.
Mom entered and closed the door behind her. "Next time, listen to me."
"Sorry for trying to help."
"You're not well. And now this." She said, annoyed and worried at the same time. She pressed a towel against my finger. "Why isn't it healing?" she asked quietly.
"Because I'm weak."
Usually, a cut this small would've disappeared before I reached the bathroom.
Not tonight.
"We cannot allow you to get hurt," Mom said. "You know why."
Black blood.
That thing again.
Another entry on my growing list of What the hell is wrong with me?.
"No one will notice."
"They will if you don't listen."
She helped me bandage it.
"Come back outside."
By seven, I was worse. Sweating. Floating. Lightheaded. The full moon was rising slowly. Everyone was laughing and talking around the table. I tried to smile. Inside, I felt like I was drifting out of my body.
My necklace began to shift.
Warm.
Cold.
Warm.
Cold. Every few minutes.
I stood up to excuse myself, but dizziness hit so hard I had to close my eyes. When I opened them again—something stood beyond the gate. A shape. Still. Watching. Then another formed along the road. Then a third. Black silhouettes. Human-shaped, but not. I couldn't see details. Just presence.
My necklace kept flickering warm and cold.
"The air feels heavy," Grandma said suddenly.
I looked at her. She was scanning the yard, like expecting to see something.
"Is it?" Iris's mom laughed lightly. "I don't feel anything."
I looked back at the shapes. They shouldn't be here. That thought came from somewhere deeper than me. The air tightened. The shadows hesitated for a moment. Then they were gone. Not running. Just… withdrawn.
My necklace continued to shift.
Warm.
Cold.
Warm.
Cold.
I sat down slowly and picked up my orange juice. My hand was trembling. I placed the glass back on the table. And suddenly, the necklace went completely cold. Not flickering. Not fading.
Cold.
The dizziness stopped.
The floating sensation vanished.
The headache dissolved.
The heat left my skin.
Everything aligned.
For the first time all day—
I felt good.
Not numb.
Not sick.
Just… right.
Like something had finally clicked into place.