That Christmas, there was not a tree.
That Christmas, nobody caroled.
That Christmas, there were not any presents.
I think it's because the only present my family really yearned for was just that; family.
Life hasn't been the same since I left my loved ones behind. I've been observing them, keeping a close eye on their face and also their mind. I have yet to see a smile. Even a forced one would be welcomed at this point.
They eat dinner in silence, and try their damn hardest not to look at my empty wooden chair and break down. The only one in the family who looks at all satisfied with life is my younger brother, who's only a toddler and probably thinks I'm coming back.
My mother and father have been sleeping in different rooms. I can sense the tension in their hearts; they're both blaming themselves. I love my parents very dearly; I hope they can understand that my decision was not at all due to their faults.
My sister graduating soon. Her smarts outrank ours in all ways, yet I heard my mom telling my dad that she was failing a few classes.
I found my dad awake very late one night, probably around the times of three or four in the early AM. He relaxed alone at the dining room table in the darkness, drinking from a bottle of questionable whereabouts.
My family locked the door to my bedroom, and my dog has been whimpering for ages to be let in, so he could curl up at my feet. My poor sweetie, he's so loyal.
But they'll be alright.
Yeah, they'll be okay.
