An Angel Answered

Chapter 1: Mistletoe

"What is it about the sound of someone you love crying? Is it set to a frequency that instantly breaks your heart?"- Rebstar

***

I say the snow is guilty and I mean every word.

 It caused me to be here, it caused my pain, my agony. The tears that stream down my cheeks faster than the snow falling outside, are all its fault. I know how foolish and ridiculous I am to blame my pain and agony on such a beautiful force of nature but as it whips aggressively on the glass of my car windshield, I have no choice.

The snow covers everything in sight, smothering the colours of the world in its rein of white. The trees that line each side of the road thrash wildly as the force of the wind hits their branches with a guilty aggression. The snow swirls in tight spirals along the long stretch of road in front of me, making it extremely dangerous and extremely difficult to be driving through this snow blizzard, but I have no choice. The raging speed in which I'm driving doesn't help to reduce the risk of travelling in the warned conditions.

But I have no choice.

I push my foot harder on the gas pedal, lurching the car forward in increasing acceleration. It's Christmas Eve, this isn't how it's supposed be. Today has played out in one treacherous event after another, and I don't know if I can handle the anguish hurdling its way through my heart.

I hiccup loudly when my mind travels back to this morning, it was hell. I thought that was the worst it could possibly get, oh how I was wrong...

"Mistletoe! Will you come and put the mistletoe up!" My mother comically instructs from the front of the house.

I follow the sound of her voice, trudging into the room where she waits, exaggerating every movement.

She stands next to our severely over-decorated Christmas tree, adding even more tinsel as she grins happily to herself.

"Mum you make that joke every year!" I groan.

"That's because it's funny!" She quickly taunts back, flicking her bangs out of her eyes.

"Maybe the first time," I grumble.

She finishes her intense tinsel decorating and turns to look at me. She lets out a jingle of laughter as she notices my pout.

"Just hang it up Missy."

I can't help but join her in light laughter as she walks passed me, putting the mistletoe in my hands as she passes me.

After putting the mistletoe up in its desired spot above the front door, I give a quick glance around the room. I admire my mum's passion for decorating our house with every possible Christmas decoration out there. Every colour of tinsel, sparkling lights, numerous diversities of snow globes and hard toys speckle every corner of our living room. It is quite a sight.

I walk into the kitchen where I know my mum will be. I join her in the christmas carol she is humming and start to help with the preparation of tomorrows Christmas feast; cutting vegetables and mixing dressings.

"Carol!"

It's my dad.

"Carol!"

He booms my mother's name again.I hear his stomps coming closer to the kitchen, the floor boards creaking under his heavy weight.

He appears in the kitchen holding a thick white document in his hand, the paper crinkling under his intense grip. He waves the paper in front of us. His eyes are bulging out of his head and an angry vein throbs on his pale forehead.