Every week, the AWM is excited to bring you stories written by our visitors in our Story of the Day exhibit. Check back weekly for new stories, and visit the Museum to try out our typewriters and possibly be featured here!
We’re so happy you decided to spend your birthday with us, and of course we understand.
I am here because I am turning
eighteen today, and I don’t
want to be eighteen yet.
I’m not done being a child yet.
I’m not done being unclean.
So I came here, because I thought
if anyone could understand what I
mean by this, they’d be a writer, and
here they are: an army of understanders.
I am here alone because my family are either
less interested or busy or
not in my best interest. They are
supportive and kind and
want to make this day a big deal.
My sister woke me in the middle of the
night. She didn’t mean to — just turned on
the light. But that was enough. I have
trouble sleeping on a good night, so when she
woke me I was angry. But when she heard me say
“Turn off the light,” she beamed and said
“Happy Birthday, buddy!” To which I replied,
“Turn. Off. The light.”
She called me a name but did as I asked, and I
probably deserved it, cause there are kids
without that kind of love waking them up past
midnight, and my sister was
drunk from a night out with a friend — which I
was invited to — so she couldn’t help herself.
But I persist in my refusal of birthday
wishes. I’d rather be sleeping. I’d rather the light
So I’m here today, not to escape
aging (because at eighteen, that would be
ridiculous); I’m here because I’m lonely,
and an un-accepter of love. Is this
the right place for me, then? With all of these
authors, their histories, their heartbreaks and
scrolls of words?
Either way, I’m happy I’m here. Soon,
I’ll look through the rest, buy a book
from the lovely author I just met, and
I’ll turn eighteen, I guess.