Short Stories

Call Me Cliché

December 20, 10:12 PM

Five Days to Christmas

"Sweetie, can we talk to you," my mom calls from the living room.

I roll my eyes and walk in, sitting across from them in our love seat. I lean back; I know what's coming. They're about to tell me that they're separating. I've known since last month when I walked in the door and heard the screaming match taking place in the kitchen. An awful day at school punctuated by my parents' divorce.

Don't forget the fact that it was picture day and the sudden news that my best friend was moving in two month's time and that her parents were already looking for another house sent me into a storm of tears, completely ruining my makeup. I'd also ended up walking home when my car wouldn't start. I had been wearing heels for the first time in a very long time so my feet had blistered badly.

Now, six weeks later, my parents were making the end of their twenty-year marriage official by telling me.

"Darling," my mother cooed softly in her slight British accent, "your father and I, we've decided--"

"We've decided to get a divorce," my father finished in his very American accent.

"We know this is going to be very hard for you," my mother interjected again, trying to control the situation. My typical mother. One of the many reason the marriage is over.

"But we know you're strong and can handle this," Dad pointed out.

"And we love you very much, Elowen," Mom finished.

They both looked at me expectantly, waiting for my reaction. My mother blinked her long, dark lashes, the same ones I'd luckily inherited. I'd also gotten her long, thick brown hair. From my father I got my pale, freckly complexion, dark eyes, and, sadly, his inability to talk in a British accent like my mom. I looked at them, my face blank. A perfect reflection of my neutral mood.

"Okay," I reply level-headedly, "Just don't put me on an insane time share. I'll stay here with dad for school and on holidays and breaks I'll fly back to London to see mom."

Confusion crosses their faces. I can see that they didn't know that the walls of our oversized house were actually quite thin. And that when you're threatening to fly home in a most definitely outside voice that your daughter can hear.

"Next time you think I'm asleep at 7:30, you should come check and see. Ten out of ten chance I'm eating cold pizza and crying while I hear my parents break up."

I got up and walked upstairs to my room. I slammed my door behind me and collapsed on my bed. My throat burned and seemed to close up, but there weren't any tears to be shed. It was the first day of Christmas break, not that my parents noticed that this was the happiest time of year.

I went up to my room, a sadness swelling inside me that I couldn't explain. I slammed the door and fell onto my bed, letting out a very loud, "Ugh!" and burying myself in my mountain of pillows. When I finally managed to pull myself from the pile, I went to my window and climbed out to sit on the roof.

December 21, 8:37 AM

Four Days to Christmas

I sit at the bus stop, waiting for the bus to come and deliver me to the mall to go Christmas shopping. I have to take the bus since my car is still in the shop. I assume it will be for a while. The Christmas season brings a ton of travellers and the weather brings a ton of vehicle troubles. The air is chilly as it snowed last night. I pull my purse closer, as if that can help with the cold. There aren't any cars on the road, let alone any buses.