Lit.Org - a community for readers and writers Advanced Search

Average Rating

(0 votes)

You must login to vote

This is a small piece i had to do for my creative writing class at school. I was not sure if i wanted to go on with the story or if it was best left as is. Comments are welcome.

As a child, all I remember is my mom. She was my rock, my only guardian. Calm eyes, warm smile, it was always enough for me. It was not until I was around the age of seven that I really started to wonder, who is he? Who is my father? I would ask my mom ever so often when she seemed to be in a good mood, ďwho is my dad?Ē She would always smile and leave the conversation with a phony excuse. The way she shooed my question away, the way her voice sounded, the look in her eyes, I knew I wouldnít find the answer from her for a very long time. The thing that struck me the most was that it never went away, the desire to know. Every time I would fill out a school paper asking for both my parentís names, every time the teachers told us to go home and ask our moms and dads. It stung; it never went away, this desire. I searched through stacks of papers at my house, no names of potential fathers. My birth certificate didnít even have a name on it for father. What kind of man was this, one that wouldnít even accompany my mother to his childís birth? Still, I needed to know, I didnít just want to know, I needed to. Did he even know I existed? On my sixteenth birthday, I blew out the candles on my birthday cake; I wished that he would find me, that his name would turn up somewhere, somehow. Sure enough, my wish came true.
The day after my birthday I got off the bus and walked up to my porch. Sitting on the porch was a box dropped off from UPS. I brought it inside and ripped the tape off with my teeth, I didnít know why I always insisted on using my teeth as a tool, but I did. Inside the box was a present, wrapped in birthday cake wrapping paper. There was a card. I assumed it was from one of my aunts. I ripped open the card, searching for money. Instead of money I found the words-

[i]Dear Stephen,
Happy sixteenth birthday, you are growing up so fast. I miss you. I know that I have never been around much but I promise I will be soon. There is a present in the box, I know itís cheesy but I heard you like basketball. Listen, donít judge a book by its cover.

My hands shook with anxiety. Was this some kind of joke? I opened the wrapped box and found a toy car inside. I laughed out loud. It was yellow and purple car with Kobe Bryant coming out of the roof holding a basketball. How did he know that I like basketball? Had he talked to my mother? Anger pumped through my veins, sweat appeared on my brow. Donít judge a book by its cover? What, he appears to be a deadbeat absent father, but really isnít? What a load of crap. I threw the stupid toy car down to the floor. It cracked, good, I was furious. After sixteen years, a toy car, thatís all? What about some money for college? My nostrils flared. I bent down the pick up the car and found that something was sticking out from inside the vehicle. A piece of paper. A business card. I straightened out the thick paper and read it.

Roger Smith

Secret agent for the CIA.

Related Items


The following comments are for "THE BIRTHDAY WISH"
by woalook100

thing I've read of yours ever! I got busy last year, so I never finished Daddy Dearest; will be commenting on it in a few days or less.
This story was clever, maybe a little too simple coming from a storyteller like yourself; but it is tight nonetheless. It's good to see you are still posting things.

( Posted by: brickhouse [Member] On: July 3, 2009 )

Birthday wish
This is cute. I'm not sure you could go on with this unless you want to write a novel. you know what i mean? To agree with brickhouse, the story is very basic, simple. Like a first time writer. anyways, your heart was in the right place. toodles!

( Posted by: smartie99 [Member] On: July 3, 2009 )

Add Your Comment

You Must be a member to post comments and ratings. If you are NOT already a member, signup now it only takes a few seconds!

All Fields are required

Commenting Guidelines:
  • All comments must be about the writing. Non-related comments will be deleted.
  • Flaming, derogatory or messages attacking other members well be deleted.
  • Adult/Sexual comments or messages will be deleted.
  • All subjects MUST be PG. No cursing in subjects.
  • All comments must follow the sites posting guidelines.
The purpose of commenting on Lit.Org is to help writers improve their writing. Please post constructive feedback to help the author improve their work.