𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕. ♡ 𝒋𝒐𝒉𝒏𝒏𝒚 𝒄𝒂𝒅𝒆.

xxii

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trish stared at the yellow sticky note on the fridge. it had been there since that morning.

'we were called into work until thursday, so we won't be there tomorrow morning. we didn't get the chance to get you a gift this year, but we'll try again next year. sorry baby, but we'll have a whole day together soon ♡ mama

merry christmas, love you -papa'

the girl supposed it was about time she took the piece of paper off the fridge door. her hand swiped it off the polished surface and headed straight for her room with a heavy heart. she went for her bed, a box under it more specifically.

she maneuvered the cardboard box out and pulled the lid off. she stared at all the pieces of paper. dozens of colorful notes and drawn hearts and unfulfilled promises in her parents' handwriting stared back at her, reminding her of how things had changed since the family had moved to tulsa. it would be a lie to say she didn't miss her old home. she missed their old neighborhood and friends and moreover, the family she once had that was her true home.

not being able to bear the contents of the box she quickly dropped the newest note in with the rest of them, it adding as little as a raindrop in a watering can left outside already full with water. then away it went again into the darkness underneath her bed, the best attempt of forgetting it was even there.

but it was impossible to ignore this bit of emptiness deep inside her, as much as she wished she didn't have to be aware of it. she felt it so, so much. not even a thousand empty smiles and nonchalant laughs could ever aid it, and that was such a hard truth to come to terms with willingly.

walking back into her kitchen, her only haven in the empty house, trish thought about how unfair it was that a person must work that hard on a day like christmas. however, she knew she had to accept it. no one could blame her for being jealous of the others, the ones who didn't have to face scrutiny and hatred almost everyday of their waking lives. colors are meant to be expressed with joy and creativity, not weaponized to make individuals feel worthless.

standing in the middle of her kitchen, lights on even though it was the dead of night on christmas eve, she couldn't bring herself to bake in order to make herself feel better, or play her instruments, or listen to the radio, or do anything. she knew others were asleep by now, thinking of the gang anticipating christmas themselves. they had made their own family and have even invited her into it, but she still didn't feel like she belonged, strangely enough. it did manage to bring her some happiness knowing they were happy, because she did care. she had always cared so much—sometimes wondering if it was too much.

  then she was reminded of one person, one boy, who she knew it was dangerous to care so much for. johnny. the boy who's stolen all her thoughts away. wasn't it just a few months ago she felt this same miserable way when he came along, appearing on her doorstep out of nowhere?

  they were certainly far from similar to each other, they came from different ends of this city—two different worlds. despite this, whenever he was in her house it felt as if they were one in the same. she missed that feeling of having someone to share emotions with. but did this mean she missed him? she didn't was't sure, but what she was sure that she hoped he was doing okay, wherever he was.

  at this thought, her loneliness sunk in and she found herself curled up between the tile floor and the cabinets, suddenly feeling so minuscule. it was a big world, so was her simple request to have someone at this moment so difficult to grant?

  all by herself, she cried. like many times before, her tears were hidden away from people who were usually accustomed to her bright smile. that's how she preferred it to be.