My dad threw me back into the basement.
With the basement door being slammed closed, my heart was closed, too,
I didn’t understand why they still hated me even though I had become a boy.
Later, the cleaning lady told me that it was because I was a jinx.
My parents always said that, but I was young and didn't know what a jinx was.
But then, I understood it.
When I was seven years old, I was often starved. So, I had to sneak out for food.
That day, my brother was wearing a birthday hat and was surrounded by people in the living room.
They clapped and sang, "Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you..."
My parents gently stroked my brother's hair.
"So, today is my brother’s birthday. So is mine." I thought.
I squatted outside the door and waited, and finally, everyone left.
I ran to the trash can, took out the cake, and started eating it ravenously.
That was the first time I had had cake.
“So, this is how cakes taste.
It's sweet and sour." I thought to myself.
I licked my hands, tied the cake, and took it back to the basement.
There was still a lot left. I planned to enjoy it when I got hungry.
I was holding the bag of cakes and getting ready to sleep when I heard a noise at the door.