Chapter 7: Christmas Eve

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On Christmas Eve they all sat together in the living room. Everyone opened their present. Malcolm kept looking at his little brother. Marga gave Malcolm a present. Malcolm opened it. A book. He stared at the book before jumping up and screaming:

"I didn't want a book!" Everyone winced.

"Darling ..." Tried Margarete.

"I didn't want a book!" Shouted Malcolm. Tears ran down his cheeks. He left the book in the wrapping paper and ran into his room crying. Angus ran after him. 17 year old George and 15 year old Marga looked at their parents.

"What did he want? A new bike?" Asked George.

"No." Tears ran down Margarete's cheeks.

"Why didn't you give him what he wanted? Was it too expensive?" Asked Marga.

"No. It was just impossible." William whispered.

"What did he want? A racing car?"

"No, honey." Margarete sniffed and looked at her daughter. "He wanted Angus to see." It went quiet. Tears ran quietly down the cheeks of the two young people.

"Oh my God. He wanted Angus to be able to see?" George whispered. Margarete nodded, weeping. Marga went up to Malcolm and Angus. Angus stood in front of the door.

"Where is he?" She asked her brother.

"In the room."Said Angus.

"Mal. Come on. Open up. A book isn't bad." She said.

"But I didn't want a book!" Malcolm yelled. His voice was tearful.

"I know what you wanted, little brother. But that doesn't work."

"But I made my wish!" Whimpered Malcolm. "You all got what you wanted too!" Marga opened the door and went in to hug her brother.

"That wish cannot be fulfilled, Malcolm." Malcolm cried into her shoulder.

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