BROKEN

Prologue ~ It's The Most Dreadful Time of the Year

"James! Wake up!" My little sister, Olivia, jumped on my bed. "It's Christmas!"

I groaned and turned over, putting a pillow over my face. Christmas. The worst day of the year. The opening of small and disappointing presents, watching my sister squeal with delight over the enormous gifts she received, all the relatives, the endless fake smiles, the reluctant greeting kisses on wrinkled cheeks, the disapproving and disgusted glances and looks I knew I received behind my back.

Christmas used to be fun, with lights and snow and presents, but that was before. Before everyone knew.

I remember perfectly how I would search every corner of the house trying to find my presents. I would help my father hang the lights on the Christmas tree while my mother and sister cooked dinner. We would start a fire in the chimney and my mother would play the piano, sometimes accompanied by my father's guitar. My grandparents sat in the rocking chairs near the fire and listened silently. It was one of the rare occasions where my sister and I could stay up late. Those nights were wonderful, almost magical. We were like the perfect family, all united, all joyful.

That was a long time ago. Too far away for Olivia to remember, to see how much times have changed. I wasn't the only thing that altered the way we lived. Lots of events contributed to that change.