The Night I Was Saved

Chapter Ten

My arms are covered in thin scratches and coated by a redness that you can compare to a heavy rash or allergic reaction. I know it's neither, although it does itch like hell and if it wasn't for the fact that my company has shown me a real, bright, and big smile for the first time since I've met her, I would've thrown the cause of my itching, red, and whacked arms out of the window.

Fucking Christmas Tree.

It isn't even a real one, since all those that were left at the Garden Centre were ugly and shabby, so eventually we settled for a fake one. I thought that it was easier as well; no mess, no needles flying around, and no-hassle when Christmas is done. It seemed a win-win.

But when I opened the box, it turned out that fake Christmas trees are even worse than a closet of fucking Ikea. Every fucking branch is delivered separately, and even the stem consists out of three individual pieces. They are organized by color which is supposed to make it easier, but instead is confusing as fuck because there are three types of green.

When I finally got every branch organized by the same colors, all the small twigs were smudges together, so I had to peel them off each other one by one. And when you think the needles of a fake tree aren't as sharp, you are fucking wrong; hence the scratches and redness.

"But it's a very nice tree," Josephine says from next to me, her arms folded in front of her. We are facing the tree which is still empty but finally does have the right shape. Josephine has a few scratches on her hands as well because she helped me, but since she is wearing a long-sleeved purple shirt, the needles didn't get her like they got me.

Daisy is sleeping in the cot in their room. Josephine was a bit nervous about that because she has never left her side when she slept in a bed, but I was able to convince her to help me with the tree in the meantime. I think it's good for her to spend some time without Daisy as well, even if it's just for an hour.

"It fucking better be," I say under my breath. I'm not sure if she heard it, but if she did, she is choosing not to react to it. Instead, she folds her hands together as if to encourage me before she says, "and now the lights, right?"

I nod and give her a small smile. I hate this. This is exactly why I didn't have a Christmas tree last year. Even when I was still living at my mum's, I never helped decorating. Mercy and Mum always went over the top, even building a whole Christmas Village on the tv cabinet. Every time I tried to watch tv I got a bloody epileptic attack because of all the colorful lights that flickered underneath it.

Thankfully, Josephine didn't even look at all the small houses when we walked through the Garden Centre. She was too busy soaking up the fact that she was out. She was carrying Daisy in a baby carrier that Maisie left for her, and therefore she was able to fully enjoy the small trip out of the house. While Daisy slept, we strolled around for a good thirty minutes. We bought lights for the tree and a starter box with seventy-five ornaments as well. The tree isn't that big, so I think it's enough.

I could tell that Josephine enjoyed going out for a bit, and now that we are inside again, she has a healthy color on her cheeks and her eyes are brighter as well. She needs to go out more often; the fresh air is doing her good.

And even though I'm nagging about putting this tree up, I don't mind it that much as I see how excited she is. Like now, how she is eagerly opening the box that contains the string of lights. She is trying to cut the tape that seals the box with her nail, the tip of her tongue in between her teeth. In combination with her red cheeks and wind-tamed hair, she looks different.

She is wearing proper clothes -a deep-purple shirt and a black tight legging- and her eyes aren't as hollow because she had a good sleep for the first time since she can remember. The dark circles are less as well, although I still see a hint of them.