I awoke early that morning, got out of bed, and walked over to
my calendar. December 25th
it showed. I took a deep breathe and walked over to my window. A
cool breeze came in, that seemed to freeze my lungs, as I opened
the window. Outside, kids were playing with new toys, laughing and
running around with their families. I stood and watched them for
awhile, remembering what it was like to throw snow balls with my
sister, then come inside and sit by the fire with my family, while
we talked about all the new things we received for Christmas. But
those sweet memories seemed far away now.
It has been exactly six years since the accident, the one that
left us scarred, the reason why I dread this once lovely time of
year. At the time I had just turned ten. My dad and my sister, who
was at the time seventeen, drove to town to get a last minute
present. A Nintendo 64, that I had begged for, for a long time. My
dad felt sorry for me, so him and my sister drove to town to buy
one. It was around eight thirty when my mom received the phone
call. After she hung up, she called me into the kitchen, she was
putting on her jacket, it looked as if she had been crying "we have
to go," is all she said. We pulled up at the hospital. The nurse
wouldn't let us in, all they said was that there had been a
terrible accident. Later on two cops walked into the waiting room
and explained everything. On the way home from the store, they hit
a patch of ice, and slid uncontrollably into an oncoming diesel.
The little girl died on impact. When they got there the man was in
critical condition but still alive. "All he said was to give his
son this package," they said as they handed me a box, "then he
passed away." As I opened it I looked inside and started to cry, it
was the Nintendo that I wanted for Christmas.
Six years later I still find myself getting teary eyed when I
look at the Nintendo. "I got breakfast ready." I heard, so I walked
out of my room and downstairs into the kitchen. Since the accident
mom hasn't been the same, she never gives me the warming smiles she
used too, and she's always crying and moping around. But today was
different, she seemed to be in a better mood, she was actually
humming, which I haven't heard her do in six years. After I
finished eating, I walked into the living room to watch T.V. I
noticed a big tree in the middle of the room, but we haven't
celebrated Christmas since dad died. "Mom, when did you get the
tree, I thought……." but I was cut short at the sight. There were a
bunch of little boxes under the tree. I only sat there with tears
in my eyes. My mother walked in and gave me a hug, "merry
Christmas," she said. There was a knock at the door. As I opened
the door, I jumped. There stood my dad and Mary, my sister. I
started crying as dad picked me up and spun me around like he used
to so long ago.
I woke up still crying, jumped out of bed and ran downstairs.
In the kitchen I saw my mom sitting down eating some cereal, "
merry Christmas," I exclaimed with a hug, but she only looked up at
me with a dead look in her eyes, then slowly returned her gaze back
to her breakfast. I ran into the living room, and stopped. There
was no tree, no neatly wrapped presents, no nothing. Only the same
old couch as always. It had all been a dream I thought as I dropped
to my knees with tears streaming freely from my eyes.