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Chapter 11: Lonesome Christmas

I waited for more hours until he was gone asleep. Ate Rosa told me I should better hide from him at the moment until he's already sober. Until everything's okay.

"You can go back now. He's peaceful from hell." she whispered. She tried to smile but the curve from her mouth doesn't insist that everything's fine.

She walked with me until we're finally on my room. She sight some bruises and small cuts from my back and legs. While I was in shower, she headed to the medicine kit. "Does it hurt?" she inquires when I got out. She's worried about my back, which earlier made two strong impacts on the floor and at the door as what he did to me.

I shake my head. I can feel a bit pain but I supported myself earlier, so my spine will be fine.

I sat down on my bed while she fixes all my cuts. "I should better leave. He'll be disappointed if he sees me again by morning." I told her with my head bent down.

"You will not do that." she warns me. "He's just drunk and the death of Ma'am Lucinda made it worst. He'll be back again. He just need some time, Riley!"

I know that she know, that what had happened, and what he had said, are not just because he's drunk. He meant it. Really serious about it.

--

After that day, he insisted to have Grandma's body, cremated. Just the time the jar has been given to him, he does not let go of it. He have it when he sleeps, when he eats, when he drink alcohols, most of the time. He even talk to it like the ashes can make Grandma's physical body back again.

Everybody can't talk to him without giving a fight. He's doesn't even care about my existence anymore. Wines and alcohols are probably his bestfriend right now. He have it whether by breakfast or lunch or dinner. He satisfies himself drinking two to three bottles in just one round. When he's already wasted, Ate Rosa always try to keep me from him. He's just too mad at me, he might just kill me anytime.

Tomorrow is Christmas day. The whole house isn't happy about that. I, neither, want to celebrate it. I just want to sleep over it, hoping, that when tomorrow comes, everything will be fine. But I can't sleep. I looked for something to do and then, I tried to sneak out for a while, just want to breathe nice air. I can't stand being on that house of hell.

I am alone at the park. It's cold. The breeze of Christmas brush off from my hair, even enters the cloth of my jacket. There are lot of lights dancing on the trees and circling the fountain at the center of the park. It's really Christmas time. 

There are few cars going in and out of the parking lot. Families were gathered and smiles on their faces, felt so true. They were dressed beautifully and cosy. They even wear 'Santa Claus' hats on the top of their heads. A group of choir centers the whole attraction. Mime players were disturbing the freckles of each and everyone's walking around the park. It's so happy to be here, especially, if you were with your loved ones. How I wish they were with me right now. 

"No paintings with you tonight?" a recognizable voice came into me.

I looked at him and smile. "I still have to paint for more."

He likewise smile, and even sat beside me, with the same metal thing that helped him on sitting. I moved aside and help him as he sits. He, then, grants me with a warming smile. "You were alone?" he asked as he lays his back on the wooden bench.

I smiled shyly, "Yeah. And you?"

He chuckled, "No. I have my wife here with me."

I stared at him, questioning. She just woke up from comma?

He stared at me too. He took out his hold from the metal he's holding and puts his hand on his left chest. "She's always here in my heart" he smiles.

I giggled. "Of course, she always will be."

We stayed for about an hour, just sitting on the bench, watching the whole surrounding feasting around us.

"I miss them so much." I whispered.

I miss the smell of all the usual dishes Mom was preparing by midnight. I miss how Dad decorates the tree with all the old records he keeps from his past work in the recording company. Of how he looks excited when he, on the forefornt, lights few fireworks. I miss how Josh always pick the largest gift, and how we laugh at him when we saw his grumpy face being disappointed to the gift he took from me. I miss forgetting sadness at the time of celebrating the season. I miss being happy. 

"They're happy now. You should be too." he comforts. I just smile back.

I really should be, now. I just don't know how am I able to do it.