November 10th, 2014

That was a day that should have been a momentous occasion. But here it was, midnight and already it had passed onto to the 11th with little ceremony to commemorate the day. It began like most days. Samson Colt awoke, feeling no different than any other morning. He felt exactly the same as the day before, same messy bedhead and the same morning breath.

There was absolutely nothing different about him that would have been noticeable to anyone. The only difference about Sam today was that he was another year older; he was now 14. Perhaps it was because there was nothing particularly special about being 14. It wasn’t like 13, which marked the transition to teenage years. It wasn’t like 16, or 18, or 21 or any future milestone birthdays. 14 was just run of the mill ol’ 14.

Which is why that Sunday played out the same as almost any other Sunday. The dark haired boy ate breakfast, did some chores, and worked on some science homework for a class he was trying to complete online. Sam spent the vast majority of his day alone, contemplating whether or not how car engines functioned was appropriate for a science project (and if he could convince his mother of that). It was followed by a pretty low-key birthday dinner out with his family. Sam sat there in relative stony silence (relative for him) as he has still not quite gotten over the last time his parents had taken him out for dinner and the disaster that had followed. His parents simply assumed that teenage angst and moodiness was settling in for a long haul.

At home he had some cake, as his mother has made a rich and creamy tiramisu for him. Sparklers sat on top of the cake instead of candles. There was nothing to blow out or wish on; all Sam got to do was watch the little sparks and embers fly off the fast burning metal sticks until they went out completely. There were presents of course. He received a new ipad, a few interesting model kits to work on and a gift certificate to buy himself whatever he wished at the mall (this was in addition to the usual socks and ‘nice’ clothes).

It was that night that Sam went to bed, still full from tiramisu, and tried to fall asleep but he found himself failing miserable at it. Maybe it was the coffee soaked cake that kept him awake. Or maybe it was something else. As he laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling, Sam found himself thinking that he had more than many kids in the world. Generally, his life was privileged (if you didn’t count living in a city that always seemed to be under attack of some kind). He got more than he could really ask for from his family, and while it was not particularly special, his birthday had gone by pleasant enough. Still, in the back of his mind, there was something bothering him, something he could not quite place a finger on.

Here he was, 14 years old and unable to sleep. All because he couldn’t help but feel like there was just something missing.