"Is that a Christmas tree?" It was beautiful and huge, well as huge as it could be to fit inside my house, with a bright yellow star on top. And I was so surprised to see it that I practically screamed in excitement. Okay, I really screamed too loud, because, in the next moment, my mother came rushing from the kitchen, wearing an apron which she usually wears while baking. Now, please don't tell me that she is baking a cake too. Exactly how many surprises have my parents planned for me?
"Yes, honey! We brought you a Christmas tree since you've always wanted one when you were a little kid. And could you please help your dad with the decorations? You can already see what a great job he is doing." She commented, frowning and gesturing to the now messy living room.
My family was never like this. We never decorated our house nor did we bake cakes, at least not after we lost Haven. It seemed like the family lost its happiness and liveliness with the loss of its daughter.
I looked up to my mother who looked as if she was waiting for me to answer her. Then I remembered what she asked me to do.
"Ok, mom! Let me just drop my bag in my room."
I quickly walked away from the room. Once I reached the safety of my room and locked the door behind me, only then did I let the tears fall. The tears that were threatening to fall since I first saw the snow in the morning, since I saw the Christmas tree. It was already so hard to control the tears and now that I let them flow freely, they just couldn't seem to stop. So I let them flow, hoping that the act could somehow lessen my pain.
It wasn't me who wanted a Christmas tree, it was her and she was the one who asked me to convince our parents after they refused to get us a Christmas tree when she asked for one. They said that we were too young to be able to decorate it and that once we grow up they'd get it for us.
A slight knock sounded on the door, along with my mother's sweet voice, "Are you alright, sweetheart?"
I quickly wiped my tears, willed myself to be strong, and opened the door with a smile on my face.
"I was just coming, mom!"
I know she can very well see through my pretense. Every time I pretend to be okay, she gives me this same expression. Yet she hasn't said anything to me, not even once and that is a really good thing for me since I wouldn't be able to explain anything to her.
But for now, I kept the smile on my face, after all, I have better things to pay attention to, like saving my house from dad's disastrous decorating skills.