A Girl's Christmas: Part 4

I pick a handful of popcorn kernels and shove them into my mouth.

“I knew you’d like those,” Mom remarks, smiling affectionately.

“Mmmhmm,” I agree around a mouthful of popcorn. I can’t stop smiling. Every single thing felt really surreal and it’s almost difficult to believe it isn’t all a dream. This is probably the happiest Christmas I ever spent. I mean, apart from that one time, at least. Maybe there’s hope for all my Christmases.

I turn back towards my mother, intending to ask her whether we’re gonna have any other plans tomorrow night when I spot something glistening and glittering under the tree. A sparkly necklace rests neatly on my pillowcase, perfectly matching my red Santa hat.

My eyes widen as I stare down at it, unable to tear myself away from it. My heart starts beating faster, my breathing becoming shallow and I quickly scramble to grab it, holding it tightly against my chest as tears prick at the corners of my eyes.

No. No, no, no, not again. Not after everything. Please, please, please, tell me it doesn’t mean what it looks like. Please. I try my best to blink back the tears threatening to spill over as I lean down and carefully wrap the necklace around my neck. My breathing evens out and I feel a weight lift off my shoulders, though my body still trembles slightly. I can’t help but wonder how long this necklace has been in my pillowcase. Has it always sat there waiting for me to return home, wondering if I was safe and loved, knowing that I missed them? Does it even matter anymore?

Maybe I never really needed it in the first place.

I slip the necklace out of my collar and place it delicately onto the pillow beside me, not sure exactly where I put it exactly. My mind is spinning and my heart feels light, filled with happiness and love for the most beautiful gift ever sent to us.

I glance over at my mom, who’s still happily chatting away about whatever movie’s going to happen next. For a split second, I see myself looking back at her, with my dark blue eyes and blonde hair and tiny freckles dotted across my nose and cheeks. It hurts to remember all the little things about myself I used to wish-could just stay buried deep inside, but now it seems like I finally have them all – the best parts of me. I don’t want to forget anything, especially not the moments when my family was so loving, so sweet, and so caring towards each other; even if it ended up costing them their lives.

That's all I'll ever remember about my parents: their loving smiles, their laughter, and their warmth, warm, warm, warm.

A knock sounds against the front door, pulling me away from my thoughts.

“We have company, darling,” Mom says, reaching behind herself and grabbing the remote control off the coffee table to turn down the television volume, but failing completely due to the lack of an input button.

Mom glances over at me and nods toward the front door.

“Coming!” I call over my shoulder as I stand up from the couch.

I take one last glance in the mirror one final time before exiting my bedroom. It’s almost midnight and I'm pretty sure that everyone else has gone home by now, except for the couple still lingering in the kitchen and making Christmas cookies. I'm glad that Mom didn't insist on putting them up. If I'd have had to listen to yet another one of her Christmas songs it would have killed me.

To be continued...