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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1540201-This-Christmas
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by Aven Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Short Story · Experience · #1540201
Fictional Christmas story
    I awake to a soft whisper. Someone familiar is calling my name. I stretch my arms and pull the covers off my drowsy body. What I see is not my normal room. I find myself in a place I know all too well. Small, comfortable, and familiar. I know every crack in the wall and every splatter of paint present here, as I know my own beating heart is a part of my body. It’s warm. I feel warm. I hear another sound. I stumble to the door. Before I go beyond my bedroom door, I look back and listen. I hear the sweet sound of gentle music, a pair of footsteps, and what seems to be the tearing of paper. I feel the early morning dawn on the walls of my room the breeze outside caresses my window. It feels like a normal day, though it is not. I feel overjoyed, but do not know why.



    Eagerly, I unlock my door. I find a man by a short, stout tree. He is towering over it; putting a star or an angel on top perhaps. I see little packages wrapped in colorful paper with bows and ribbons of every size and shape. I look back to the towering man and my heart skips a beat. He is all too familiar. He is my father. The music continues. I gasp and my father turns to see me. He greets me and I smile, unable to do nothing but. Surprisingly, I am running to him with arms wide open, a smile, and teary eyes. I dash through the rugs, the furniture, the presents, everything! I wrap my arms around him. The familiar music, the holiday fragrance, the warmth of home overwhelms me. I feel an emotion that cannot be described in words. “Happy” would be the biggest understatement of the year. I hug him so tightly it would nearly break his back, and still it wouldn’t last me a month away from here. I see his joyous face as he looks at me.



    From behind me another voice calls; my mother’s voice. I hug her slender body just as tightly and bury my face in her night gown. I tell her how much I appreciate what she’s done. She strokes my hair and greets me. Although I do not see it, because of the tears in my eyes, I can feel her smile. Then a knock on the door is heard. My mom is free of my embrace for a moment as I go to the door. I open it, and my aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins, friends are there; all of whom I have lived with for all, but 2 years, of my life. They have their usual customs; Uncles arguing with each other on cars, politics, and everything else they could come up with, Grandparents bringing in gifts to spoil their lucky grandchildren, Aunts already scheduling hair and facial appointments with the sales on the holidays, and I and my cousins playing senselessly while the adults do their thing. Today, I’m a child without a care in the world.



      I stray from my family for a moment and look at them going about their business. I come to a conclusion that I don’t want anything else. There could be no improvement from this scene that I want or need. I’m content, for once. My Christmas wish has been granted. I couldn't ask for more.



    Then in unison, they stop what they’re doing. Naturally, I'm startled. They smile and look at me like I was going to leave on a long journey again. I hear one more call, then my own voice. I know what is happening. I scream and plead and do anything, and everything. Not yet. Please, not yet. Then a blank scene took over. No more music, every loved one disappears, nothing left at all; only the chilll of the empty dark space that has engulfed me. It is now that I realize I am not home. It was just an illusion. A cruel illusion to make me happy for a minute. It felt something like when you give a baby something to chew when he's hungry just to keep him quiet. So easy, and vulnerable. That was all it was; a dream.



    I awake again, but this time, to my normal room. The wide and spacious room with four walls a roof, a floor, a door, and 1 window. I stare at the ceiling for a moment. I stare at the blue, and it stares right back. I drift into it and close my eyes for a while. I try and go back to my dream, but it is long gone. I wish with all my might that I would be able to make my dream a reality. A long, disappointing sigh is my result. It's no use.



    I grumble out of bed with a blank look on my face. It is early Christmas day, yet I feel so gloomy. I go down the stairs to the living room with the enormous tree. One, Two, Three, Four, and Five. Five presents under the tree for me. I see them but do not jump with joy or race to open them. I walk to the presents like a lifeless soul and open them one by one. My mom is tending to the newborn baby. Her husband falls asleep on the couch behind me, uninterested in anything else. I am not alone, yet I feel like I am in a solitary prison cell in Alcatraz. I go through the presents one by one and see how valuable and exciting they are.But I am still sad. I seem so selfish, but I cannot blame myself for wanting. I'm human after all. But I’m not alone yet, and I do not want to disappoint my mother on Christmas morning. So I put on a smile and a set of happy eyes to strengthen my resolve. I thank them for all the gifts, put on my best face, and hope they do not feel my selfishness. They fall for it and stay content. My mom goes to feed the little baby prince, and her husband retires to his bedroom. I let out a breath of relief when they are gone, and stare at the tall tree; no man towering over it. I fix myself some of the fancy food we now have and eat in silence only by the light of the fridge door.



    They will never know my Christmas dream, and with that, my Christmas Wish.



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