Behind Closed Doors

basement.

She knew the road was steep,
But she no longer had an excuse,
For maybe she had something to hold onto earlier,
But now; she had nothing left to lose.
_____________________

27 January 2011
3:45 pm

I sat with my knees buckled below me and my face buried into my flower-like hands, licking my lips as the taste of failure consumed me whole.

These past days have been unbelievably tiring since I've been searching the entire mansion inside out.

I've even gone through the trouble of sneaking inside the servant quarters in search of it.

All this was driving me insane.

I quietly sobbed as I expected the worst.

What if mum- no,

no she wouldn't.

Would she?

I hoped not.

I could only pray that she hadn't thrown it away.

I remember craving a playstation for weeks after I had witnessed Lucas and Noah battling a humongous lizardfish, they refused to let me join

and therefore I had to play nice for 4 whole months before Santa blessed me with my very own.

Santa was my favourite; he always seemed to give me what I wanted.

As a kid, I would get sets of Ken dolls and every Christmas I would wrap them in thick red wrapping papers,

Labelling them as Lucas and Noah and place them under the tree, so that Santa would come collect them and give me a dog instead; in my defence it was quiet a fair trade.

I didn't realise that there would come a time where I'd be wrapping their bodies in thick white sheets which stained red as their blood soaked into them.

I didn't ever reckon that a day would come when I would label their graves with their initials and burry them six feet under.

I wonder if I asked Santa for my family back, would he find a way to return them to me. Even the thought of it is silly, but I couldn't help wonder if Santa didn't exist at all.

My parents were my Santa.

They bought me presents, placing them under the tree at midnight as dad would bite a chunk of the big cookies mum and us used to bake, chugging the milk in one go; and later the next morning pretend as if Santa paid us a visit the night before.

Once the dentist had warned me not to eat too many sweets right before christmas, can you believe that?

I recall begging mum for an extra cookie the night before christmas but she refused;

claiming I'd get cavities so I shut my eyes and prayed to God  asking him to send Santa with a whole bunch of cookies for me and me alone.

The next morning I woke up with a basket of kisses and galaxy and several different types of chocolates, candies and cookies all wrapped up in aesthetic red and white bows and placed accordingly in the plain snowy basket.