Thea [EDITING]

Chapter Thirty-Three: Milk, Cookies, & A Lonely Christmas

||Chapter Thirty-Three: Milk, Cookies, & A Lonely Christmas||

Thea's POV:

A glass of milk.

Placing my lips to the edge of the cup, I use the tips of my fingers to tip the cup forwards. I feel the cold, white, liquid cover past my lips and into my mouth. I loved milk. There was always something so refreshing about it, the fact that it was mostly good for you just made it better.

As I grew up, my dad laid restrictions on how much milk I drank; much to my dismay. He said that he wanted me to drink more water. You know, that plain, transparent, liquid that comes from taps. And other places. But that was unimportant. The important thing was that it was disgusting. The mere taste of it almost had me gagging at one mouthful.

I did drink it though; sometimes.

A plate of Oreo biscuits.

Setting down my finished glass of milk, I used my index finger and thumb to pick up an Oreo. I parted my mouth slightly, slipping it between my teeth before I broke the sweet, small sandwich with my teeth. The chocolate crumbled onto my tongue as I bit down harder. After that Oreo was gone completely, I poured myself another glass of milk to go with the Oreo's.

Eventually, the biscuits were finished and I was left feeling more or less content but alone.

I was my own Santa this year. I said this year because usually my dad proceeded with the whole charade of being Santa even though I no longer believed. He just wanted to have the Oreo's and milk. This year though, he insisted I was too old for that now that I was eighteen so I decided to be my own Santa. I would get the milk. I would get the Oreo's.

And yes, I was back home. To which Cameron didn't know about and the only time I conversed with my dad was when talking about this whole Santa charade. He had tried speaking to me at other times but I would just walk away.

The only reason I was back here instead of at Lea's was because I thought she might need some space before having to confront everyone this weekend.

Derek wasn't staying there anymore either, I think he was staying with a close friend here or something like that. I hadn't spoke with him much since I left Lea's so I didn't know all that much.

So that was what led me to be sitting there, upon a stool at the kitchen counter. Just eating away at the Oreo and drinking glasses of milk.

I didn't really mind the loneliness though, yeah I missed the tradition with my dad and of course I missed Cameron being around. But in all honesty, I enjoyed being alone yet I was lonely at the same time? It was far too complex to explain I supposed but that was how I felt.

Emotions were something that had always been hard to pin point because really, you're never feeling just one emotion.

Like on Facebook, they have that button where you can post your emotion but how could you choose just one? Sometimes there wasn't even a word to describe how you felt. Letters, words, capital letters, vowels and consonants couldn't even begin to describe the intensity of how you were feeling. So why use words? When you could use actions.

Wasn't there that phrase?

'Actions speak louder than words'

In English we learned that when you write; it was best to show, not tell. You showed it by how you described the characters' actions, expressions, behaviour, attitude. Same with situations, and scenery.

If you just told the readers everything all the time, then they wouldn't be able to immerse themselves into the story line and they wouldn't be able to connect properly with the characters.