I’m the middle child in my family, the invisible one nobody ever sees. My older brother Marcus and younger sister Lily’s birthdays are marked on the calendar, but Mom and Dad can never remember mine. Marcus and Lily always have new outfits to wear, but Mom and Dad always forget to buy me new clothes. Marcus and Lily get Christmas presents every year, but I’ve never received a single one. And today, on our way home for the holidays on the freezing highway— with temperatures well below zero—Mom and Dad once again forgot about me at a deserted rest stop… When I came out of the rest stop bathroom, I saw Marcus and Lily getting into the car. I was about to follow when the car started up and drove away. I ran after them, shouting at the top of my lungs: “Dad! Mom! I’m not in the car yet!” But the car quickly turned and merged into traffic, until I couldn’t see it anymore. I stared at where the traffic had disappeared, my lips trembling as I repeated quietly: “Dad, Mom, I’m not in the car yet…” My voice was as thin as a wisp of smoke, torn apart by the bitter wind the moment it left my mouth, scattering across the empty rest stop. The next second, the last traces of shock and unwillingness in my heart were covered by a cold numbness. I slowly withdrew my gaze and looked around. The enormous rest stop was terrifyingly quiet. Under the dim yellow streetlights, the sky was completely white. There wasn’t a soul in sight. In the distance on the highway, traffic roared past, headlights forming blurred ribbons of light, but not a single car stopped for me. I didn’t dare move around. My feet felt like they were filled with lead, rooted to the spot, as I clung to a faint glimmer of hope. Maybe Mom and Dad hadn’t driven far. Maybe they’d realize I wasn’t in the car and turn right around to find me. I gripped the corner of my jacket, staring at where the car had disappeared, over and over willing that familiar white sedan to appear. It kept getting colder. The chill seemed to seep into the cracks of my bones, freezing me from the inside out. My toes were already numb, gradually losing all feeling. My cheeks were red and aching from the wind. Tears welled up in my eyes, but I didn’t dare let them fall. I knew that even if I cried, no one would come to comfort me. Unable to withstand the bone-chilling wind any longer, I could only turn and shuffle toward the bathroom. Compared to the open outdoors, the bathroom could at least block some of the wind. In the silent bathroom, there was only the sound of my shallow breathing and the howling wind outside the window. All those deliberately ignored grievances now surged over me like a tide, completely drowning me. I remembered last year on my birthday—everyone forgot. It wasn’t until three days later when Mom saw the calendar that she remembered. She hurriedly made a cake. But for Marcus’s birthday, the whole family had gone to his favorite amusement park. The custom-made cake even had “Our Pride” written on it. Lily’s birthday was even more extravagant—she’d invited her entire kindergarten class, and presents were piled up like a small mountain. Ever since I was little, Marcus has been praised as smart, the family’s future support. Lily has been doted on as the little ray of sunshine. And me? “Parker is such a good boy, never causes trouble.” That was my label—like a faint pattern on wallpaper. Present, but never noticed. I don’t know how long I sat in that bathroom. The warmth from my body gradually faded, and I started feeling cold again. Just as I was about to lose consciousness from the cold, I heard light footsteps outside the door. My heart jumped. I immediately perked up, instinctively raising my head, eyes locked on the doorway. Could it be Mom and Dad?
Had they finally realized I wasn’t in the car and come back for me? The door creaked open. But the person who walked in was a stranger—a man wearing a thick down jacket. The light in my eyes instantly dimmed. A self-mocking smile tugged at my lips. I was overthinking things again. The man was clearly surprised to see me. He probably hadn’t expected to find a young boy sitting alone in such a remote rest stop bathroom. He looked me up and down, his tone gentle as he asked: “Kid, are you here by yourself? Where are your parents?” At the mention of my parents, my nose stung. I held back the tears in my eyes, my voice hoarse: “Sir, my… my parents forgot me here. Could I borrow your phone to call them?” The man’s face filled with sympathy. He immediately pulled out his phone and handed it to me, urging: “Go ahead, call them. It’s freezing out here—we can’t have you getting sick.” I took the phone. My fingers were so stiff from the cold that I kept pressing the wrong numbers. After finally entering my home phone number correctly, I took a deep breath and pressed the call button. The dial tone rang in my ear, each beep hammering against my heart with anxiety and hope. But the ringing ended without anyone picking up. My hand holding the phone trembled slightly. That small spark of hope grew a few degrees colder. The man beside me spoke softly to comfort me: “Don’t worry. Maybe the signal’s bad. Try calling again.” I nodded. My fingertips pressed redial, my ear pressed tightly against the phone as I prayed that this time, I’d hear my parents’ voices. The waiting tone in the receiver felt endlessly long. My breathing rose and fell with each ring. On the seventh ring, the call finally connected. Mom’s voice came through, muffled by wind noise and car music: “Hello?” My tense nerves suddenly relaxed. My eyes instantly burned with heat. All the grievance and fear caught in my throat. My voice was so hoarse it barely sounded human: “Mom… I didn’t get in the car. You forgot me at the rest stop.” The moment I finished speaking, Mom’s rebuttal came crashing down on me, her tone full of impatient certainty: “That’s impossible! Before we left, I specifically asked if everyone was here. Marcus and Lily both told me yes. How could we have left you behind?” The phone went briefly silent. I could imagine Mom turning to look at the back seat. Those few seconds of silence made my heart colder than the freezing wind. I thought I’d hear her panic and guilt, but what came instead was sharp accusation: “What’s wrong with you, child? Why didn’t you say something earlier if you weren’t getting in!” “Couldn’t you have shouted for us then? Why wait until we’d driven far away to call? You’re just causing problems!” The cold blame was like needles, bursting the last bubble of my expectations. I bit down hard on my lower lip, forcing the tears in my eyes back down, my voice trembling uncontrollably: “I did shout… I ran after you shouting, but you didn’t hear me. The car just turned and drove away.” My defense made Mom pause for a moment. The silence was fleeting before she found another reason to scold me: “Well, isn’t that because you’re so slow!” “I told you to hurry up, but you just dragged your feet. Now we’ve already passed the toll booth—we can’t just turn around on the highway! How are we supposed to come back for you?” Then Marcus’s voice came through the phone, dripping with schadenfreude: “See? It’s his own fault for being so slow! I even tried to rush him, but he had to be all sluggish about it. Now look what happened.” I gripped the phone so tightly my knuckles turned white. Anger and hurt swirled in my chest. He was the one who’d cut in front of me in line, making me wait again. But now he was saying it was my fault. Next, Lily’s childish but cutting voice chimed in, full of spoiled willfulness: “Mom, Dad, I don’t want to go back! I want to hurry to Grandma’s and eat chicken drumsticks!” Just as I was about to break down in tears, Dad’s deep voice came through the phone. His tone held no warmth—just detached arrangements: “Enough arguing. Your Uncle James is also driving to the old hometown today. He’s going the same way as us.” “Just wait at that rest stop. Don’t wander around. When he arrives, get in his car and come home.” “But Dad, I don’t remember Uncle’s car. When will they—” Before I could finish, the line went dead with a cold dial tone.
I held the phone, standing there in a daze. Tears finally fell, splattering onto the cold phone screen, instantly turning ice-cold. The man beside me patted my shoulder gently and sighed: “Kid, don’t be sad. How about you come to my place first? You can call your parents from there and have them pick you up.” “My place is just off the next exit—it’s not on your way, otherwise I’d give you a ride.” I thought about how impatient Mom and Dad had sounded. I declined the man’s kind offer. “Sir, that’s okay. Thank you. My parents said my uncle will be here soon to pick me up. I’ll just wait for him here.” It was a holiday. Mom and Dad probably didn’t want to turn around and make the trip back for me. Uncle James and I weren’t close normally. Making him go out of his way to pick me up—he definitely wouldn’t be happy about it either. The man looked like he wanted to say more, but his phone rang in his pocket—probably someone traveling with him calling. He looked at me with worried eyes, then pulled several fancy-wrapped chocolates from his down jacket pocket and pressed them into my hands. He went back to his car and brought me a beige blanket, wrapping it around my shoulders: “Keep this blanket on—it’ll help you stay warm. Eat the chocolate so you don’t get too hungry. If you wait too long and no one comes, borrow someone else’s phone and call your parents again. Whatever you do, don’t wander off.” I nodded hard, choking out “Thank you, sir.” His hurried figure disappeared through the doorway. The empty rest stop was just me again. The cold wind still squeezed through the cracks in the door. But my shoulders, wrapped in the blanket, gradually felt warmer. My stomach growled with hunger. I unwrapped one chocolate and gently bit off a small piece. I couldn’t bear to eat more. I carefully folded up the remaining chocolate and put it in my pocket, thinking that if I had to wait too long, I could rely on this to get by. I pulled the small blanket tighter around me and instinctively tugged at my clothes. Underneath, I was wearing an old sweater Marcus had discarded last year. The collar had become loose and misshapen from washing. The cuffs had frayed threads. This was what Marcus didn’t want anymore last year. Mom said it was still wearable, so she gave it to me. But this year, Marcus was wearing a newly bought gray suit with a blue bow tie, making him look like a little prince. Lily’s down jacket was brand new too—pink, making her look like a little princess. Only me, wearing Marcus’s hand-me-downs, like a dull gray shadow. Afraid Uncle James might drive past without seeing me, I had to grit my teeth and leave the bathroom, standing back out in the cold wind. The streetlight glow grew dimmer. The sky gradually darkened. The distant sky turned deep gray. Sparse snowflakes began to fall. Landing on my hair, on my shoulders, instantly melting into cold water stains. I stared at where the cars were coming from. When my feet went numb from the cold, I’d stomp them. When my hands got stiff, I’d tuck them inside the blanket and rub them together. Over and over, I prayed in my heart for Uncle James to hurry up and arrive. Passing cars drove by one after another. The headlights made my eyes blur, but not a single car stopped at the rest stop. The snowflakes fell heavier and heavier, accumulating in a thin layer on the blanket. I pulled the blanket even tighter. The sweet taste of chocolate had long since faded, leaving only anxiety and cold filling my heart. I didn’t know how much longer I’d have to wait. I didn’t know if Uncle James would really remember to come pick me up. I just felt like this freezing wind was about to turn me into ice in this vast, empty rest stop.
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