Frost

- One -

                For most people, Christmas was a happy time of year, for Claire Stahlbaumns it was one of the worst. Where most families took the time to decorate their own trees, the branches laden with homemade decorations, Claire's mother had professional decorators come in and do all the work for them. The same with cakes and cookies, all of it was ordered and delivered to give the illusion of Christmas without ever having to actually participate.

               One would image that Claire would have gotten used to the 'tradition' by now, but each year she got her hopes up, believing that perhaps this year would be the year when things were different.

               It never changed.

               Which was why, in the late-night hour on Christmas Eve, Claire simply lost herself in the chaotic dance of the flames flickering in the fire place. She had hoped to distract herself from the loneliness of another Christmas spent by herself, but it wasn't working. Nothing seemed capable of drawing her thoughts away from what her parents might be doing at that very moment. Were they thinking of her too? Were they wishing they had decided to stay in New York rather than go to Paris, or Venice, or wherever it was they had decided to go that year in the name of world peace?

               Claire, of course, had to stay behind, she always had to stay behind. When she asked why she was told she was their emissary here in the states, the smiling face at the fundraisers and events. All events they were too busy to attend themselves.

               Of course, they didn't put it that way, but Claire knew the truth.

               Closing her eyes, Claire let out a soft sigh. It was at moments like these that she wondered if the reason her parents were so distant was because she wasn't theirs, because she didn't share their flesh and blood. It was no secret that the Stahlbaums had adopted her when she was just a child. She had been found wandering at a train station with no recollection of how she had gotten there, or who she was. Even her age was speculative and Claire was somewhat convinced that the whole adoption had been little more than a publicity stunt.

              Neglectful parents aside, Claire supposed she wasn't entirely alone. She had Miss Crosby and the rest of the staff. She had her godfather as well, though he was about as present as her parents were. At least when he was around, however, he seemed to want to be there, unlike her parents who were always ready to be gone again.

              Thinking of her uncle reminded her of the gift he had left for her. It lay beneath the tree concealed beneath a thin layer of colorful Christmas paper. He had made her promise not to open it until Christmas, but Claire wasn't certain she could wait that long. She needed some sort of distraction, something to take her mind off her loneliness.

             As though on cue, the booming clang of the grandfather clock in the hall shattered the silence. It startled Claire, and caused her heart to leap in her chest. The deep, resonating chime sounded twelve times before finally going silent once more.

            It was midnight.

            It was Christmas.

             Slipping from the couch, Claire crawled quietly across the plush carpet before coming to stop in front of the tree. Folding her legs beneath her she pulled the gift out and set it across her legs. There were mountains of other presents beneath the tree, most of them were likely from her parents. Claire had no doubt they'd all been picked out and purchased by Miss Crosby. Claire had little interest in any of them at the moment.