LABYRINTH | Scarlett Johansson x Daughter

28 | merry christmas, kenz.

Whilst every other student in my school stressed themselves out over exams before winter break rolled around, I sat at home, in my bed, doing absolutely nothing.

Due to my unforeseen circumstances, my principal let me postpone my exams until the second week back which is both a blessing and a curse.

A blessing because it means I get an extra week of break. A curse because that means when I go back to school I have to sit four different exams in a classroom alone with a teacher watching my every move. Not that I'm the type to cheat, but it's just uncomfortable knowing all eyes are going to be on me for as long as three hours.

Sam and Ryan both work a part-time job but their hours are the same which left me home alone from eight-thirty in the morning through to three o'clock in the afternoon Monday-Thursday this last week.

Time alone was something I used to enjoy a few months ago. I would sit down at my desk and either sketch or paint, or I would bake an obscured amount of cookies, muffins or cake.
But now, I find myself either in tears on the floor of my bathroom, sleeping until noon or staring at my half finished art portfolio with absolutely zero ideas nor any interest to continue.

Today is Christmas Eve and whilst I'm not exactly in the celebratory mood, I am spending the afternoon and evening with Scarlett which does bring me at least a little bit of joy.

When I arrived, she practically forced me into an ugly Christmas sweater and dragged me into the kitchen to bake cookies whilst 'Home Alone 2' played in the living room.

"You need to invest in cookie cutters. Your angel looks like a rock, except with a hula hoop on top," I inform Scarlett as I powder my hands with flour.

"Oh come on, it's not that bad," she says, mouth agape as she wipes her hands on her apron.

I turn my gaze to hers, pointing at one of the angels I made. It's not perfect, but at least it doesn't look like a rock.

"You must have cheated," she decides, jaw widening and getting a closer look at my unbaked cookies.

"Technically, I am an artist," I remind her as I roll out another piece of dough.

"That is true. I don't understand how you have the patience to make it look that good," she admits, looking back at her cookies, "how about I start on the cleaning up and you can make the rest?"

"Yes ma'am," I agree with a nod and a smile.

Once the tray is in the oven and the cookies are baking, Scarlett and I made our way to the living room. The fireplace was lit and her Christmas tree was so perfectly decorated that anyone who didn't know her would probably think she was a control freak.

"Let me give you your presents," she says, reaching under the tree as I sit myself down on the couch.

"Oh, I didn't know we were doing presents. I feel bad, I didn't get you anything," I admit, my voice dropping to a lower volume as I anxiously fiddle with the blanket I've pulled over my legs.

I never know how to act when I receive any sort of gift. My parents stopped giving them to me at the age of eight because I was 'never grateful enough' which of course couldn't be further from the truth, but it makes me doubt myself. I'm always scared of coming across as spoilt or rude.

"I wouldn't expect you to get me anything, babe," she assures me with a warm smile before handing me two perfectly wrapped presents. "Merry Christmas, Kenz."