August 1982 She came into the room and began her speech, "I've come in here to tell you that I've decided you don't deserve to have a birthday. So in a few days, when your birthday is supposed to happen, it won't. I'm not acknowledging anything about it and there won't be anything from me to make it any different to any other day. Your sister has decided that she wants to give you something, and she's already bought it, so there's nothing I can do about that, but otherwise it will be as though you are not turning twelve. As far as I'm concerned your birthday does not exist. Do you understand me?" I nodded, as placidly as I could manage in the face of such an announcement, and carefully lowered my eyes to look at the floor in front of me. She moved to leave the room, paused for a moment, and turned back. I glanced up and at that moment She leaned forward and poked her tongue out at me as far as she could, all the hate inside her expressed in that small gesture. I felt myself involuntarily flinch in surprise, despite the fact that this was far less traumatic for me than the usual ways She expressed her abhorrence for me. She then swung around haughtily, left the room and locked the door behind her. I was terribly disappointed, but not entirely surprised and certainly not shocked. It wasn't as though my birthdays with her had ever been special before. I had only had one birthday party in my life and that had been with my foster family when I turned nine. So I certainly hadn't been expecting much - but to have my birthday erased?! That seemed to me to be her ultimate revenge for my existence. I resorted to my familiar response: I wondered what was wrong with me, how I had caused such absolute loathing in her. By now though, I had grown to hate her in return, and at my core I saw this act as yet another display of the cruel, vindictive person that She had consistently shown herself to be. My young mind didn't take long to shift into the childish, 'I wonder what my sister has got for me?' Being in the habit of not expecting anything from anyone, I certainly had no tendency towards wanting anything generally. So I had no idea of what I would want for my birthday, and this made it quite impossible to guess what my sister might have chosen for me. As I wasn't allowed to speak to my sister or brother, I made no attempt to find out what I was going to receive, and simply waited quietly for the few days to pass until my birthday arrived. At some point that day my sister gave me a small gift, which she made me promise not to pull apart - it was a Rubik's Cube! Although it was not actually a cube; it was an eight-sided cylindrical shape. I was rapt - I thought this was the most wonderful idea. She had given me something to help me wile away all the hours that I usually spent stuck in the bedroom. I was very grateful and made sure that she knew as much. Later that evening, after I had gone to bed, my brother tiptoed into the room. He was carrying a bowl of ice-cream with a candle in the middle, and in hushed whispers he sang happy birthday to me. Then we hastily shared the ice cream before he snuck away again. I went to sleep after that with a smile on my face much broader than She would normally have allowed me to get away with. These two events made me feel special and acknowledged in a way, because they had both chosen to go against their mother's wishes. In whatever small way, they both showed me they had not agreed with her decision. They believed, at least, that I deserved more.