One Memorable Christmas Miracle.

One day till Christmas Eve.

The rain was pounding heavily against window panes. Despite thunderstorms, the evening’s silence and sense of foreboding were palpable. There was something mysterious about it, some kind of change looming in the darkness.

Lyra was sitting in her apartment overlooking the town, and towering hills swelled in darkness. No snow. But rain. No electricity, but darkness. No family. But that was her choice.

She knew that was the right decision to follow. One more Christmas on her own.

She didn't long for her mother’s culinary pleasures. She refused to pine for the warmth and smell of the spruce and frisky sparks dancing in the fireplace. She wanted to forget how the arms of her father felt like on a lonely day like this.

She crossed the room and entered the kitchen. Whenever Lyra couldn’t face her memories, she knew how to distract herself. She grasped a bucket of vanilla ice cream from the dark freezer. Topped it with salt, peanut butter, and some chocolate chips. She could have bought the ready mix, but there was something satisfying in having control over the creative process.

After settling herself down on the couch, having 3 spoons of the mixture, furious with herself, she put it aside.

This is it? The independence? Is that the feeling of making it on my own? She thought.

When I quit my life of predictable boredom, left my hometown, I thought that was the change I was seeking all along. I thought that was the change that would bring me satisfaction and relief.

How terribly wrong she was.

No matter where you are going, you are always tagging yourself along. The carpet on the floor may be more sophisticated, have the kitchen counter all to yourself, the view from the balcony may be more spectacular. However, the inside of your soul remains the same.

But I digress, dear reader.

Lyra could feel almost hollow if it wasn’t for the self-hatred burning inside her chest. She despised how fast she could run away from whatever uncomfortable feelings may arise. Tears were running down her face, the headache looming on the horizon. Slowly, she dragged herself to her king-size bed. Having no strength left to change, she fell onto the sheets and cried to her pillow.

Please, no more pain. No more loneliness. I can’t take it anymore. There has to be something more to life. Crying her heart out, she fell asleep.

…

The morning dawned bright and cold.

Lyra woke up to find the world covered in snow. Something stirred inside her chest. It’s Christmas Eve. She walked to the mirror, acknowledged her puffy eyes and red complexion. Brushed a pale hand through her silky blonde hair - another change she forced herself into. They were no longer golden brown.

The ice cream mixture has completely melted throughout the night. The table was a mess. Cleaning up, she looked outside onto busy streets. People were rushing. Cars were manoeuvring through snow-covered roads. Three men were dragging an enormous Christmas tree.

Yet again, Lyra caught herself thinking almost longingly of her childhood grandpa’s house, where the family would gather on that particular day to celebrate. She loved the commotion of the preparation.

The light of adventure sparked in her eyes. Jumping on the impulse, Lyra grabbed her suitcase, packed the most basic essentials, and was heading down the elevator to the parking lot. She had a feeling this Christmas Eve was going to be special. She could see her parents’ faces radiant with glee upon her arrival. She could feel the excitement. She felt alive.

She wanted to leave the city immediately. It did not bother her any longer, yet she couldn’t shake off the feeling that she is not coming back. She had a three-hour drive ahead.

Bringing festive music and spirit back to life, she drove on ahead.

…

A sense of excitement rose like a tangible cloud over Lyra as she reached her hometown.

It seemed warm and friendly in comparison to the life she had left behind. Her cell was buzzing, but she didn’t bother to even look at it. Freedom seemed too much expensive to waste it on explaining.

She stopped by the largest store in town and decided to make some Christmas shopping. The atmosphere of rush and excitement was highly infectious. This simple act was so alluring to her now. She couldn’t remember the time she went shopping just for fun or somebody else, for that matter.

Upon entering the department, she started circling around the shelves. Candies, checked. Batteries, checked. Toys, checked. Christmas sets of cheap shower gels and body lotions, checked. Corny Santa hats, checked. Liquor, checked.

Standing in line, she felt accomplished. Yet had no sense of control or what might happen once she entered her house. It wasn’t even her concern. She felt liberated.

"Throwing some party tonight?" The voice from behind swooped in.

Lyra turned around to see a tall, young man with chestnut hair, dark and smiley eyes. Never seen him before, she would remember his distinctive jawline.

"Yes, after all, I have decided to participate in Christmas cheer," Lyra replied, although her voice sounded much less confident than she was used to.

"One can never be too old for that", the sarcastic, yet unbelievably gorgeous stranger reacted. "You know, I don't count it as a Christmas spirit offer, but do you need a hand with that?"

Lyra looked at her cheap but sentimental treasures already stuffed in plastic bags and wondered how the hell would she manage to drag them down to the parking lot.

"Sure, although I count it as a Christmas miracle or a great pickup move". She already regretted those words. Why does she have to be so skeptical. Where is the Christmas cheer in that?

"Miracle? You don't get around nice guys, huh?" the man summarized.

"Actually, no," she replied, surveying the stranger with apparent mistrust.

It got Lyra thinking. She was always the one to give commands, play the independent card. Not because she wanted to, but because she was forced to and believed society was somehow deficient in thoughtful, caring male species.

"So, where is your car?"

"The green Mercedes, over there", Lyra pointed.

"Here you go, I will leave you to it. By the way, that was not a pickup move. I would make a bigger effort." the stranger replied cheekily. "Oh, and I hope you will bump more often into those nice guys."

"You are not alone in that thought. I think I feel the shift in the air. Thanks for the hand." Lyra replied, hearing the confidence back in her voice again.

She got back into her car and sensed the feeling of accomplishment.

Musing over the encounter, she thought: "That was an idyllic example of a meet-cute. Let's leave it that way"

…

As she pulled outside her house, she took in how much she missed the place. She could see her window upstairs overlooking the nearby village. She could see the tree where she and her mom used to sit during the summer. Now, when the garden was covered in snow, it resembled her personal winter wonderland. How could she ever leave this paradise? It has been only two years, yet it seemed like forever.

Suddenly, she felt uneasiness creeping over her.

Memories of the last conversation with her parents came back. She vented out things she regretted. Her father let her know what a burden she has been. She repressed a shudder at the thought of that horrible phone call from her mom, which did not make amends.

Holding her breath, she stepped onto the porch and pressed the switch. The bell rang. After a while, the door opened. A woman was standing on the porch, but it wasn’t her mother.

"Hello, dear," she replied. "Well, finally! We all have been waiting for you! Derek will be thrilled! Come on in."

Confused and speechless, Lyra stepped inside. Who is that woman, and what is she doing in my house? And who is Derek? Those frantic thoughts were rummaging through her mind.

Once in the living room, she looked around, only to find the space completely changed from how she remembered it. For a while, she started contemplating if she was in the right house, but the exterior looked unchanged.

Yet, the inside has transformed. Her photographs were gone from the mantelpiece. In fact, all known to her remembrances of her family have disappeared.

She followed the woman to the kitchen and discovered a cheery lot of strangers gathered around the table.

"How did you arrive? We thought your train was to arrive in the late evening," the bald, older man exclaimed with a huge grin on his face.

"I am sorry, there must have been a mistake. I am not the person you think I am supposed to be. I am Lyra, and my parents live here. Where are they?"

As Lyra mouthed those words, the front doors opened, and the handsome stranger from the supermarket stepped in.

"This is a surprise. Hi again. What are you doing at my parents' house?" he ushered in a tone of bewilderment.

The next minute, darkness seized her, and Lyra fell to the ground.

...

Lyra opened her eyes. She looked around her room. Once again, she found herself in a city apartment. She walked slowly and carefully to the mirror. Her puffy eyes and red complexion were gone. She ran a pale hand through her silky blonde hair.

Cautiously, she stepped into her living room. The table was a mess covered in melted ice cream mixture. Cleaning up, she looked outside onto busy streets. People were rushing. Cars were manoeuvring through snow-covered roads. Three men were dragging an enormous Christmas tree. It’s Christmas Eve! It must have been only a dream.

Lyra grabbed her suitcase, packed the most basic essentials, and was heading down the elevator to the parking lot. She wanted to she off the feeling of panic of that horrorsome nightmare she had just experienced.

She wanted to leave the city immediately. Not to leave it behind, but to get to the bottom of the truth. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she hated the idea that the nightmare may turn out to be true. After all, she has not spoken to her family for two years.

...

After the three-hour drive and the unbearable stream of worrying thoughts, she stopped outside the department store.

Upon entering the shop, she started frantically circling the shelves. Not in the search of presents or food. She was looking for him. The stranger could either confirm her worries or soothe the anxiety rising in Lyra's stomach.

No sight of the man. She would definitely recognize that hair and arrogance radiating out of him.

Standing in line, she felt at ease. The dream turned out to be only a silly figment of her imagination. She sighed deeply.

"Throwing some party tonight?" The voice from behind swooped in.

Horror stricken Lyra turned around to face the man she feared the most.

"Are you alright? You look as if you had seen a ghost," the handsome stranger reacted.

"Where do you live," Lyra blurted out.

"Why? Do we know each other?" The man looked puzzled.

"Do you live outside the city? Somewhere south?" She continued with a pounding heart.

"As a matter of fact, I do. How did you know that?" He winked audaciously.

"I didn't. I have just guessed. How did you end up living there? What happened to the previous owner," Lyra pressed on, feeling her eyes were brimming with tears.

"I have been living there for 12 years. Wait... aren't you that lap-dancer from the club last night? "

"Uhh, no!" She reacted.

"Relax. It was a joke. Now, that was a pickup line." the stranger uttered and walked away clearly satisfied upon seeing Lyra's terrified look on her face.

She stood there in disbelief. The chill ran down her spine. Leaving her shopping goods, she ran down to her car.

Panting heavily, feeling dizzy, she couldn't wrap her head around the idea of what was happening.

Suddenly, somebody knocked on the door.

It was the stranger from the supermarket again.

"By the way, you are not crazy. Oh, and I am Derek. But you already know that." he smiled again and slowly swaggered away.

What kind of hell did I find myself in?

…

Pulling outside her house, she couldn't pluck up the courage to leave the car. What if her whole past life turned out nonexistent? What if she was going crazy?

Holding her breath, she stepped onto the porch and pressed the switch. The bell rang. After a while, the door opened. Her mother stood in front of her, smiling in disbelief with her arms stretched open.

"Oh, mom! You have no idea how happy I am to see you!" Lyra cried and fell into the arms of her mother.