• Zack Wolf was turning sixteen today, which was October 13th, his least favorite day of the year, though it was on a Friday. "Happy birthday!" yelled an overly excited group of people, who were standing by the old front door with the paint pealing from the effects of long years of water and sun. Zack glared at them, grabbed his books from school, and went to inside to his room, with stained brown carpet and annoying green painted walls. When he returned into the red walls of the living room he had a history textbook.
    "Zack, why don't you join the party? It’s for you after all," said a kind, quite voice. Zack looked up and saw her. The short black hair, and the beautiful green eyes, along with the black eyeliner and the blood red lipstick. He stared deeply into her green eyes. He knew this beautiful girl for three years. He loved her, but he only stayed a friend. She was, and is, Rain Severs. "Rain," he said, "You've known me for about three years. Did I ever look like a party person?"
    "No," she said smiling, "You’re just the death of the party." Zack looked up to her from his book. "Yep, and lets keep it that way," he said in an apathetic voice. Rain looked at him. She thought for a second, than asked, "Why are you always like this on your birthdays, and I don't want the 'because it reminds me of another year I'm alive' answer."
    Zack looked oddly at her, than smiled. "Because it’s Friday the 13th, I will tell you. Birthdays are just another day that for no proper reason people celebrate. To me it is just as useless as Valentines day, or Christmas," he said Rain looked confused, “But Valentines day is about romance, and aren't you Christian? You always have a cross on your sleeve."
    Zack looked back to his book, and stood up, he then walked to a desk that sat at a corner and put the book down. Then he turned back to her. “I don't want to sound like an a** hole... well, more so than usual," he stated as he walked to the couch to sit.
    "Zack, you’re not an a** hole. I asked you, and I want you to tell me," Rain said.
    Zack lifted his sad brown eyes to her concerned green ones. He sighed and took a drink of soda, wishing for alcohol that he once took from his father's secret stash.
    "Okay," he said, giving in, “I think they are pointless. Valentines Day is no more romantic than people make it out to be. Every day should be just as romantic if you are with that someone. Christmas is a pagan holiday, and so is Easter, but people make a big deal about Christmas, but all it is is materialism, people claim it was to celebrate Christ's birth, but it is pointless to say that now."
    "well aren't you a big humbug?” Rain said jokingly
    Zack smiled, "bah!" he exclaimed in a joking manner. He started to fiddle with the holes in the couch from years of damage by him as a little kid. He went to the kitchen with Rain and sat down with everyone at the rounded table that had chips missing and a crack on the edge closest to the wall. His mother and father smiled and brought out a strawberry cake, with a rose drawing made of icing in the middle. Zack looked at everyone and forced a smile, he than cut the cake with a knife that was beside the cake. One the knife, little known to Zack was a curve that everyone expected him to notice, because it wasn’t like most knives. It was a dagger, with a bone handle hand carved with a dragon head at the end, the blade was also forged by traditional methods, however because of Zack having zoned out to get away from everything he didn’t take notice. This shocked everyone, for even at a young age Zack had loved three objects. The first was flowers, the second was his large collection of poetry that he wrote, and the third was old weapons.
    Zack looked around and saw everybody’s surprised look, he than looked down.
    “Oh, look… a dagger based from the early feudal ages of England.” He said, not knowing why people were so shocked. He licked some cake off of it’s sharp edge. After putting the dagger away properly he got out a cutting knife and sliced the rest of the cake.
    The day went on without much excitement and Zack went to the living room and turned on their large screened television. He than turned it off, knowing noting is on at most times Rain sat by a tall muscular boy with long brown hair, wearing a long white jacket and dark blue jeans, named Smith, who was friends with Zack as kids, they were both whispering but Zack didn’t care.
    The hard black and white checker tiled floor was hurting Zack’s feet as he was standing by the present, forced by Rain and Smith to “look” happy. There was only one wrapped present. It was in a red wrap with a blue bow on top. The present was long and thin, but also very heavy. He sighed “couldn’t you just tell me… I’m too lethargic to worry about the surprise of everything.”
    Smith slapped the back of Zack’s head yelling “Shut up! It’s a gift and you should treat the giver with respect!”
    Zack looked at him “I know, sorry,” he said in a droned voice.
    He slowly unwrapped the gift to find a reflection of himself. His dark hair tangled and messy and his eyeglasses crooked. He had a long sleeved black shirt with belt like structures on the sleeves and lose ends of the sleeves. As usual he wore tight fitting black jeans and black shoes, attached to one of the shirts “belts” was a string with a cross at the end.
    He fully unwrapped it to find a mirrorwith the Frame in the shape of a bird with outstretched wings and a wooden bird head. He smiled and hugged rain “Thanks,” he said.
    Rain looked confused once more, and said “Um, it wasn’t me who gave it.”
    Zack looked surprised “Really? It had no name written on it and I thought you gave it to me.”
    He looked around the room, but everyone was as baffled as he was.
    “Well To whoever it was I give my highest gratitude, it is beautiful,” He said smiling
    As he placed it into his room he stared into the mirror and sighed in relief. As he rubbed the back of his neck he looked into the mirror and saw something strange. A crack in the mirror, not a big one but he noticed it for some strange reason. He rubbed his index and middle finger across it to find that the mirror wasn’t cracked at all. The crack for no apparent reason vanished. “How queer, either I am insane or that’s an optical illusion created by the crafter of this beautiful mirror,” he muttered to himself thinking it was just a trick of the light.
    He grabbed the red wood edge that was polished so smoothly that it was like a new metal pole. He stood up and walked back into the living room, not noticing the wood eye of the bird shaped mirror following his movement.




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