Spell
25 December 2009 (7 years old)
I left the door to my room opened just in case dad came back. He didn’t. This morning, I ran out of my room once the crimson sunlight streamed into my room through the window in front of my bed. I ran out to find signs of daddy ever here. His shoes, coats or cigarettes were all not here. He left nothing behind, if he was ever here. Mom was sitting right next to door, with a cup of orange juice on her right hand.
“Stop looking for him, he wasn’t here.”
I stepped out of the door for fresh air, secretly. (Technically, I wasn’t allowed to leave home but whatever.) Oh, right! I was supposed to look for the letter, to check if Santa was here. The wishing tree stood steadily despite the strong wind. Its long roots and strong trunk hold the tree together. The letter was gone!
I checked around wishing tree to ensure that it did not fall off the tree. The envelope could not be seen anywhere. It must be Santa Claus! I leaped out of glee and excitement. Daddy would come back home after all if Santa had seen my wish. It will definitely come true.
I waited the whole day for daddy to come home.
Today is Christmas. The day to unwrap presents, to share peace, joy and love. Santa would be giving out presents tonight. The whole day went on until mum and I decided to open the presents by ourselves. Mum does not have any relatives left on Earth, maybe they are all in heaven. We- left alone.
I stayed up all night but did not peek so to allow Santa to make my wish comes true. I waited and waited and waited. They say you cannot take a look, a sneaky peek even if you are curious or the wish will come undone. I closed my eyes but it was restless night as I was unable to contain my curiosity and excitement.
10 p.m.
Daddy would come home tonight. I thought to myself, full of hopes and expectations.
11 p.m.
Daddy would come home tonight. I thought to myself, a reminder from me to Santa.
12 a.m.
Daddy would come home tonight. I thought to myself, a form of reassurance and comfort.
1 a.m.
Daddy would come home tonight. I thought to myself, it turned to a repetitive statement, like chanting.
2 a.m.
Daddy would…
YOU ARE READING
A Christmas Wish
General FictionWhat's worse than losing a beloved sister? Losing everything else? When Brown lost his sister ten years ago, he prayed that it was the end of the tragedy. It probably isn't. He said his father was the one to be blamed for putting him in where he is...
