Far Away From Here

Silence

Christmas eve dinner came and went. My parents weren't ones to stay long after

I tossed and turned in my bed, treading what the next day would bring. Christmas consisted of just my five-person family. Knowing there was no way to avoid awkward conversations and a day spent with my family I tried to stay up as late as possible so I could sleep in for as long as possible.

However, at seven-thirty, I was awoken by the clashing of pans downstairs. Squeezing my eyes shut I tried to let the darkness consume me, but like always once I was up, I was up.

"Do you need any help mother?" As I made my way to the kitchen, I found none of then my mother banging the kitchen. An array of dish pots and pans encompassing the counter space. She didn't respond verbally just pointed to the potato's sitting next to the sink. Washing and peeling the potatoes was my job as a child, no matter what dinner we were preparing for. My mother and father would tell people that I loved doing it, and I would smile and nod. As I grew older,

I began contemplating if I really did enjoy this mundane activity. Yet, I kept my mouth shut and always did my one job with a smile on my face.

My family was not big on the gifts; my parents would give each child one hundred dollars. George and I had exchanged gifts the night before, huddled in our pajamas on his queen size bed. I had gifted him new headphones and tickets to a Slayer concert in February. They were a heavy metal band that George and his friend Damian loved. I bought him three tickets on the first level, I would have bought him seats for the general admission but I did not want him getting wrapped up in a mosh-pit. One of the tickets was for Damian and the other was for my brother Alfie. This was a gift to me as well, Alfie hated heavy metal and crowds but once George told him about the concert, his mother would give him no other choice but to accompany his eldest brother.

I almost burst into tears when I unwrapped what he had gifted me. He had purchased me the mint condition red binding Peter Pan novel. Since I was a child I had been trying to collect all eight versions of the 1911 novel. I had been searching for this version for over five years, it was very rare.

"Oh my God! Where did you find this?" I jumped across the bed to give him a lengthy hug.

"I bought it from a woman at my work. She purchased the book in 1925. She is old." I giggled loudly, hushing myself so I wouldn't alert anyone else in the family what we were doing.

Christmas day passed quite slowly before I knew it, it was four-thirty and I was putting on my Christmas dress. A forest green drapery that my mother bought for me four years ago when I grew out of my last one. Even though my family spent the night with only each other, my parents always made us dress up.

One photo was taken each year, Alfie would place my father's phone on the grand cabinet that held my late great-grandmother's china and place the self-timer for ten seconds. Three chairs were placed in front of the grand Christmas' tree. All three children would sit on the chairs, sitting from youngest to eldest. My mother and father standing behind us, centered.

In those ten seconds, my father would slick back his hair, my mother would peer at me in the corner of her eyes to make sure I was smiling, Alfie would plaster on a barely present smile that made him like stoic and George would beam the entire time until the flash blinded us all.

We have taken this photo every year even before I was born. I hated these photos, it showed me how much I changed through the years. Not even just my weight but you could see the happiness slimmer away, my toothy smile I once sported to a smile that did not reach my eyes.

The photo would be on my mother's Facebook page before we sliced the ham and my father would share it with the caption he puts every year 'Merry Christmas, from the James' Family to Your Family'.