A life in the Dark

C h a p t e r T w e n t y S e v e n

W e d n e s d a y 2 5 t h D e c e m b e r
Christmas!
_________

I awoke to the dim light gently streaming through the window. Instantly, I reached out for my glasses, the cool metal of the frame familiar to me, and looked at the clock, which read 6:24 in its bold digital lines. Then I looked at the wall across and saw my empty advent calendar; it dawned on me that it was Christmas day as the clock turned over to the next minute.

Yawning, I leapt out of bed and dashed into the bathroom, splashing water onto my face and brushing my hair simultaneously before taking the quickest shower in the history of showers and-shit. Of course I thought as I looked down at the red liquid edging its way down my legs. Urgh! Why today? I sat on the toilet and fished a new pad out from the draws.

Ten minutes later I was sat at the breakfast table, book in hand, eating a few croissants from the selection in front of me, wrapped up in one of those fluffy, oversized jumpers that I bought from Primark the other day. Mum was sat next to me, wearing a pair of black legging and grey high-heeled boots.

"We'll go down in a minute?" she suggested, nibbling at an all-butter croissant with strawberry jam that was dripping out of the side.

"Okay," I beamed back at her, the snowmen earrings from Harley jangling as I turned my head.

After that minute, we headed down, to the front corner-past all of the hanging decorations-of the shop where our Christmas tree was stood; underneath were all our presents. I unclipped my card off of the tinsel and handed it to her first. "Here," I smiled as she took it. "Merry Christmas!" She ripped open the envelope to reveal a little card with a cartoon version of Santa outside of his grotto, snowmen galore, loading up his sleigh; she opened it and I watched her eyes move from side to side as she read it.

"Aw, thank you sweetie," she said, pulling me into a hug that I happily accepted. Then it was my turn. My card had a snowman that was saying 'snow more bad times,' cheesy and cringey, yes, but also heart-warming. I could relate.

Then I handed over my gifts, which-as I predicted-she loved. On the other hand, she got me a load more warm hoodies, and much to my surprise the exact same boots. I burst out laughing at that: we really are so similar!

"I saw them and thought you'd love them," she grinned, stifling a giggle. "And, honestly, I kinda fancied them for myself too."

"Same!"

"Aw, my big girl," she pulled me into another hug, her sunset orange jumper soft to the touch. "You're so strong." I hugged her back, rocking back and forth on the floor. "Your dad would be so proud of you," she barely whispered. And for the first time in years I actually wondered what it would've been like to have had a father all these years.

Would I even be me?

Or at least the same me?

*****

"There you go, miss," I smiled as I handed the young woman the Christmas-themed gift bag with her Snowman bath bomb. She thanked me and left, passing the window filled with baubles and boxes wrapped as if they were presents, the bell sounding out as usual.

I heard a faint vibration come from the draw with my phone in, so went to check it. As I pressed the home button, Logan's name popped up on my screen. What does he want?

Logan: hey, can you call me?

Well that was to the point. My mind was screaming at me to ignore him but a tiny part of my heart was still in denial that he intended to hurt me... Why haven't I already blocked him? With a sense of self-hatred, I slid right and typed a short reply.

No, why?

I had to wait a while for a reply, but when it came through, I received even more questions.

Logan: please 🙏🏻 I need a distraction.

What? Why? I texted, then added:

Why do you need a distraction?

"Excuse me," I looked up instinctively. "How much are the snowmen soaps?" a young girl, whom seemed familiar, asked from over the top of my phone. She was here a while ago... What was her name? Betty?

"Two pounds," I replied, smiling, dropping my phone back into the padded draw.

"I'll take one," she perked up, forking over the money, pressing it into my hand, which I put in the till, wishing her a merry Christmas as she skipped off to her parents. Then someone called me over to

Logan: I'm begging you, please🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

I sighed, annoyed.

I'm working, I can't just get up and call you. If you want to talk, just text me.

Logan: it would be easier if I can just call you

I wanted to scream in anger and frustration. Why am I even talking to him?

What do you not understand? I cannot call you, I am working. If you can't just text it, then save it.

I practically launched my phone into the back corner of the draw, slamming it shut before thinking of something and getting it back out to put it on silent. I don't care what he has to say anymore-not that I ever did. I know it sounds like I'm being really harsh, but for as long as I've known him, he's been a player. I was really pathetic enough to believe there was a chance he liked me too; that he'd changed his ways because of me. I guess I was just impressionable and insecure enough that I believed I didn't deserve him. Why did I ever feel like I did towards him? What did he ever do to catch my attention?

What...

~~~~~~

Hey guys! Hoping to finish this book before Christmas, but finding it a bit hard to write the next few chapters/plan 35 onwards so we'll see.

Go check out my entry to the #PlanetOrPlastic competition on my profile.

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