Another Christmas In Town [L.S] - Short Story

December 12th to 15th

Part One.

December 12th.
[Harry's POV]

I should have known how hard it'd be to come back.

How hard it'd hit to return to the only place that seemed to never move on, to never change or adapt. Not like the rest of the world does anyways. Time here, is like it moved slower, or maybe never moved at all.

Coming back to this place that no longer feels like home, and as I drive slowly down the street where I spent my entire childhood, in a car far too fancy for this tiny and reclusive town, snow lightly falling on my windshield, I can't even recall the last time I called this place home.

It's been, what? Five years now since I left?
Seems like it's been longer.

Not that anything had changed around here. Same old rotten train station, same old wagons decorating the main plaza, same old library by the church and same old city hall.
The entire town was just ten blocks rounding the train station and plaza. Then, the mountains around it, framing it, caging it, limiting it. Nothing more.

The Horan's diner in the corner of the city hall, my mother's bakery, the Tomlinson's newspapers, magazines and books shop, Tina's cafe, the bar run by the Hemmings and the clothing store run by Hood.
Two grocery stores run by the Irwing family, the gas station, and the decoration and furniture run by the Paynes.

Certainly nothing I missed.
There were multiple reasons why I left this place, but boredom was the main one.

There was nothing to do, nothing to pursue, nothing new to experience.
My whole life I felt trapped in those ten blocks with the very dubious train.
Yes, it was my hometown, and yes, I had wonderful memories of the life I used to have here, but none of them were strong enough to ever make me want to stay or even now, come back.

Colorado was my past. California was so much brighter.

If it hadn't been because of my very insisting mother that demanded me to come spend Christmas with the family, I probably would have never returned.
But a break from work and a change of scenery seemed tempting two days ago when mom called. Though now, after fifteen hours behind the wheel, and seeing the snow piling outside my windshield, I was starting to regret it.

Noticing my mother's front driveway had been shoveled, I hummed to myself in satisfaction, parking my not-snow-friendly car with care.

I knew I needed to get my luggage from the trunk soon, otherwise everything in it would freeze.
I had no snow boots on and only a hoodie, so when I got out of the car, I felt immediately the snow soaking through my clothes and shoes, freezing me to the bone.

Colorado is a bitch. Don't let the pretty mountains fool you.

I carried my suitcase and my backpack to the front door, managing not to slip on the iced entrance steps, which at this time of the year and with only sneakers on my feet, was sort of a miracle.

Shaking from the cold, I knocked on the door and waited for my mother to open.
I could not stand under snow any longer so, I knocked again once, twice, twenty more times desperately before I heard her voice.

"Coming!"

I huffed, and shook the snowflakes out of my fringe as I trembled in place.

"What on earth?" - She exclaimed as she opened the door. - "Harry?"

"Hi mom." - I shivered. - "Can I come in?"

"Oh Jesus." - She shook her head, stepping aside and letting me in. - "What are you doing here?!"