𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐈𝐧 𝐀 𝐁𝐨𝐱 𝐕𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐞 𝐈𝐈𝐈.

16 - 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬.

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𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝒉𝑎𝑡, 𝑜𝑓 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒, 𝑖𝑠 𝑡𝒉𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑔𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝐶𝒉𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑚𝑎𝑠. 𝑊𝑒 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑒. 𝑁𝑜𝑡 𝑤𝒉𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝒉𝑒 𝑛𝑖𝑔𝒉𝑡 𝑖𝑠 𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑘𝑒𝑠𝑡, 𝑡𝒉𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑡, 𝑡𝒉𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑦 𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑓𝑓𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡.... – 𝑻𝒂𝒚𝒍𝒐𝒓 𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒅𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒍.

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For some people, Christmas is the holiday where we all come together as a family, to eat, talk and just basically love each other more.

For some, it's a holiday for everyone, they go about sharing gifts, praying for people and just basically enjoying each other's company.

For me, Christmas is the worst holiday. Why? Because it's the day my dad comes home, the day my mom cries, the holiday I stay in my room worried sick for my mom. My grandma also died on Christmas Eve, so I don't really like Christmas, at all.

But, strangely, I had a feeling that this Christmas was going to be better. Or was I wrong?

When I was a child, I used to love Christmas. I would wait for Santa with my milk and cookie, and then I'd pretend to sleep and wait for Santa, but I always ended up falling asleep. But, when I woke up in the morning, the milk and cookie would be gone, but my presents are there and it's exactly what I wished for Christmas. I would be so joyful that I'll run down the hallway shouting.

"Mummy! Mummy! Look what Santa gave me for Christmas!" I'd say and scream. She'd hug me and tell me to go show my grandma. But, that day I went to my grandma's room, I knocked but no response, so I thought she was sleeping and I barged into her room.

My grandma lay on her bed, I was a child so I didn't know that something was wrong with her, so I tapped her.

"Grandma! Grandma! Wake up and see what Santa got me for Christmas!" I'd say, and shake her gently. Normally, she'd wake up, but this time, she didn't wake up. I was scared, like really scared. Sure, I'd heard about death before so I knew something was wrong at that moment, so I shouted for my mom to come.

And when she came, her eyes were full of tears and that's when I knew something was wrong, so without being  told, I started shedding tears.

And that was how my grandma died on Christmas Eve.

I slammed my diary shut, sniffing back the tears. I stood up from the bed to draw the curtain. As I walked towards the curtain, my mother entered into the room.

"Hi baby, how are you?" she greeted me with a slight peck on the cheek. I smiled and greeted back.

"Good morning, mom. How was your night?" she shakes her head lightly, before responding. "Yh, my night was good." She paused, then continued, "Our neighbors will be arriving today, and as you know, they are your dad's friends, so we are inviting them for dinner. Please put on your best behavior."

She smiled weakly at me. Sometimes I don't understand my mom, sometimes I feel like she gets. Other times, I feel like she doesn't. It's crazy!

She left my room and I adjusted the curtain, it's Christmas in like two days and I'm already dreading it.