Bratishkin || Bratishkin || Semenyuk

December was in full bloom. This morning was supposed to be special for her. Today was her sixteenth birthday—that unforgettable day.

She rose early, anticipating the holiday. Her mind was already filled with images of joy. She had a lot of friends, or at least she thought so. Everyone was supposed to come today, except Vova. He'd fallen ill the other day, and his condition kept him in bed.

While she was preening in front of the mirror, choosing the most beautiful dress, the first message came on her phone. From a friend. "Sorry, I can't come. Mom said no, she says I'm too busy." She frowned. How stupid, but she forced herself to believe it. Maybe her friend really did have something urgent.

Then came a message from a friend. Then from another. And another, and another… Each new message pierced my heart like a tiny prick. The excuses were each more ridiculous than the last, but the gist remained the same: no one would come.

Finally, when it was almost time for the party to begin, she sat alone in her room. Pure, hot tears streamed down her cheeks, dripping onto her elegant dress. Before her eyes stood the beautiful cake with candles her parents had bought the day before. They had left early that morning so she could enjoy the party with company.

Suddenly, there was a soft knock on the door. She jumped. Her parents weren't due back until evening. She walked up to the front door and opened it. Vova stood there. He still looked a little ill, his face pale, a slight flush on his cheeks, but despite this, he came anyway. He held a small package in his hands, which he handed to her.

“Happy holiday to you…” he whispered, his voice a little hoarse.

His gaze moved from the floor to her face. He was a little puzzled. Today was such a day, and she was crying. A worried voice broke the silence.

— What's wrong? Today is such a day, and you're crying. Did something happen?