Forget Green Gables

"Peace on Earth" is an Exaggeration, Right?

 "What, are we not good enough?" my mother demands the next afternoon. Slowly, I pull myself from Anne of Avonlea when I realize her venomous strike is directed at me.

"What?" I ask, unsure of what exactly I missed. My father sits in his recliner flipping stations on the channel. Felix sprawls on the floor, attempting to put together a puzzle. My mother's glare and fury are for me and me alone. Peace on Earth my ass.

"Are we, tu familia, not enough for you? Are you going to just come home from spending time with your precious friends and stick your nose in a book like you're too good to talk to the rest of us?"

I glance around. Felix is slowly putting the pieces of his puzzle away. My father stops on one channel but says nothing.

"What?" I repeat again, utterly confused.

My mother moves across the room like a snake to strike. She grabs the book from my hand and smacks me in the shoulder with it. "Malcriada!" she exclaims.

I fly to my feet and as far away as possible. Felix jumps to his own feet and stands off my right shoulder. Our father sits frozen and useless in his chair.

My mother stands a moment longer and then chucks the book in our general direction. Slowly, as if someone opened an air release valve on her, she sinks to a puddle on the floor, sobs wracking her.

I don't wait. Grabbing my book in one motion, I almost fly down the stairs. Felix is barely behind me. Making brief, wide-eyed contact, we slam our respective doors shut.

"Feliz navidad," I mumble into my tear-soaked pillow, falling into a restless sleep.