AGWL ~ Tropetastic ~ Open deadline ~ Prizes up to 1B

[phantomkitsune]

Fantastic!

[CBee12]

The Greatest Christmas Present

"I'll be home by the time the baby's born," warm blue eyes stared into my chocolate brown ones through the computer screen. Hundreds of miles away, my husband was stationed in Afghanistan, and I was at home, alone during the Christmas season. My hand moved to my large belly, where inside our little boy was moving around impatiently.

"But it's been six months Matthew... I'm seven months along, and he's starting to grow impatient. What if something happens? What if... what if he comes early?" I had tears in my eyes. Matthew smiled his large, beautiful smile and shook his head.

"He won't come early Bee, he's a Godwin, you and I know that." I smiled and slowly blinked my tears away. Godwins were infamous for being late to everything. Matthew had even been late to our own wedding because his best man had food poisoning.

"I know Matthew, but I can't help but be scared." I wiped the remainder of tears away and sniffed.

"I wish I could wipe your tears away," Matthew sighed. "One more month Bee, we can live until then." Little did I know, that I wouldn’t be able to wait that long.

"Lieutenant, it's time to go." Matthew nodded back at the man and blew a kiss at the screen. "I love you Bee, see you soon." The screen went black and I stood up from the desk, wobbling over to the Christmas tree. It was Christmas Eve and I was once more, alone. My sister and parents were supposively coming tomorrow, but there was snow all over Tennessee, so they probably won't be able to leave. I flipped on the country music and laid down on the couch. My maternity shirt rolled up over my extended belly and I rested my hands on it.

"Daddy's going to miss Christmas again, but that's okay... We have each other Thomas," I smiled at the name Matthew and I had picked out. He kicked and I jumped, taking in a deep, sharp breath. Slowly my eyes closed and I drifted to sleep.

~

The next morning was too hectic for me and the baby both. I had been cooking all day, and eventually my mother and sister took over. I hobbled into the living room and sat down next to my sister's husband, Mack, and gave him a glare. He quickly got up and moved to the loveseat. I laid back and put my feet up, letting out a deep sigh. Finally, some relaxation. The front door suddenly flew open and in walked none other than my nephew, Saban Chase. He was four years old and loved to gloat about the fact his auntie (me) had taught him how to read. My dad walked in behind him and laughed deeply. I smiled and he ran over to me, holding his new book.

“What’d you get Saban?” I smiled brightly as he climbed up on the couch next to me, his green and blue eyes excited.

“Papa got me a book!” He giggled and I acted surprised.

“He did! How about you go show your mama!” Saban’s eyes grew excited and he raced into the kitchen, our new lab puppy nipping at his heels. I laughed and sat up before wobbling into the bathroom. Going to the bathroom was just another adventure Thomas and I had together. Sitting down was fine, it was the getting up that was hard. After flushing I braced myself, one hand on the sink and one hand on the tub. I pulled as hard as I could and finally heaved myself up. It was times like these that I wished Matthew had never enlisted.

“You think she’ll be excited?” I heard my little sister ask softly, and I peeked around the corner.

“Excited about what, and who?” I nosed and smiled brightly, pulling a casserole out of the over.

“We’re talking about you and your present from all of us! We all had to pitch in on the price, and it’s only one thing we got you.”

“Oh, is it that fancy crib I was looking at? Y’know that one with all the technology to keep the baby safe?” I was getting excited over the crib. It was actually kind of amusing in all truth.

“No!” My mother exclaimed, laughing lightly. “That’s for the baby, not you, silly.” My sister stuck her tongue out at me and let out a loud, sharp, HA!

My bottom lip jutted out playfully and I stomped into the living room in a fake pout. All they did, however, was laugh loudly. I smiled and sat down on the couch, rolling my eyes. “Why don’t you take a nap sis? You look really tired! We’ll wake you up when it’s dinner time!” Taylor called from the kitchen. I groaned and both Mack and my father helped me off the couch. I smiled thankfully and wobbled upstairs, falling onto the bed with a sigh of relief. I curled up on my side and adjusted my belly onto the maternity pillow, smiling softly as dreams of Matthew filled my head.

“I want to marry you!” A seventeen year old Matthew declared out of nowhere as he gazed into my eyes. I bit my lip as my eyebrows rose. We’d been dating for six months, but this still came as a surprise.

“Really?” I giggled and scooted closer to him on the couch. My sixteen year old mind was whirling already with thoughts of a future with the guy I was beginning to think was “the one”.

“Of course! We can get married as soon as you graduate, and when you finish college and I get into the military we’ll try for a baby.” I leaped from the couch and he followed me, wrapping his arms around my waist. He pecked me on the lips once, twice, and then kissed my neck. I looked up into his eyes and kissed him back softly. He smiled a knowing smile and my eyes closed in agreement as he led the way back to his bedroom.

“Mmm, Matthew,” I sighed in my sleep and slowly opened my eyes. Deep blue eyes met my gaze, and auburn hair peeked out from underneath a camouflage field hat. One auburn eyebrow raised and the corner of his perfectly sculpted lips lifted up into a smirk and his warm hands cupped my face.

“When you told me you'd been dreaming of me, I thought you had been saying that to make me feel better. Guess not, huh?” He smiled and I screamed as loud as I ever had. I flung my arms around him and he gingerly wrapped his arms around my waist, smiling and laughing as the two of us rolled gently across the bed. I kissed his lips over and over again, giggling and smiling. It was the happiest I’d been in a while.

"You're such a jerk! I really thought you weren't coming home until the first of February!" Matthew just winked his signature wink.

"Gotcha boo," he smiled and kissed me again, "Merry Christmas baby." His pearly white teeth gleamed in the dim light of the bedroom.

"Merry Chri- ahh..." I paled at the feeling between my legs.

"What's wrong baby?" He quickly sat up, his face a mask of worry.

"I think..." I couldn't say it! I sat up quickly and Matthew's eyes glanced to the bed.

"Oh my god!" He shouted and jumped off the bed. "Where's the hospital bag? Didn't you and your sister make one?" I nodded and held my tummy in my hands.

"Calm down baby," I was taking deep breaths, "It's right inside the closet." He flung the door open, grabbed it, and ran over to me. "Do you need me to carry you?"

"No I think I should w-" He lifted me off the ground, the bag on his arm, and hurried down the stairs.

"What are you two doing?" Taylor sung, laughing lightly.

"Bee's having her baby!" Matthew freaked and Taylor screamed. Soon enough everyone knew what was going on. Matthew and I were driving his truck to the hospital, everyone else following close behind.

~

"Thomas Brick Godwin. Eight pounds six ounces, eighteen inches two centimeters long. A healthy baby boy, despite being born almost two months early." Matthew pulled my curly brown hair up into a ponytail and kissed my lips, and then lifted his son out of my arms. His son had his father's beautiful blue eyes, thank god. Better than that, though, he was healthy.

"I told you he was impatient Matt," I smiled and laid my head back.

"Yeah you did baby," he smiled and kissed me, and then the top of our sons head. The second he did that cameras started flashing. We both groaned and then laughed. He handed Thomas back to me and I looked into my son's eyes.

My beautiful Christmas gift.

Matthew kissed my forehead and I turned to look up at him. In turn he pressed his lips to mine and I held Thomas tightly.

My two beautiful Christmas gifts.

[Madchen von Licht]

Jenna Wish Away

xxxxx Jenna sat by her window, blank eyes staring out. Snot dripped down from her nose, she ran her ragged red nightgown sleeve under it, causing a stiff streak to appear, greenish-white against the red. Her throat was sore from keeping quiet the half-choked sobs that made her shoulder shudder. Snow fell lightly outside the window, glistening brightly under the full moon. Jenna stared enviously at it, blue eyes following the trail of the drifts to the patched cloud work above.

xxxxx “Christmas, Christmas time is near,” she whisper-sang with a trembling voice. She had heard it on the radio in one of the classrooms at school, she only remembered snippets though.

xxxxx “Time…for joy,” she forced herself to continue, “…and…time…for…cheer…” she stuttered and her body convulsed with sobs she couldn’t let escape. Tears streamed down her cheeks in twin rivers, forcing track lines from their last run deepen. Her vision blurred and she blinked it away, the wetness causing her eyelashes to stick together.

xxxxx She cradled her head between her knees, rocking back and forth as tears dripped down her chin onto the worn threadbare mattress she sat on. A draft leaked under the window and she shivered, pulling her too-short nightgown sleeves down her wrist and folding her arms across her chest. The fetal position came naturally to her as she curled into a tight ball to stave off the worst of the chill. Her red nightgown turned maroon and itchy as it became saturated with her tears. She scratched, but the itchy fabric stuck to her skin and stayed there.

xxxxx Sitting back up she pulled a tiny little calendar she had stolen from her teacher out from under her mattress, careful not to let the springs squeak. 23 days had been crossed out in hasty black x’s on the month of December. Jenna closed it and tucked the calendar carefully back under her mattress, and crawled back on top, gazing yet again out the window. The moon was covered now, but through gaps in the clouds she could see the stars shining brightly. She stared for what felt like hours before she crawled back out of bed.

xxxxx “Santa,” she whispered as she kneeled on the floor, “please take Benji and me away from here,” she bit her lip, eyes shining, she blinked away more tears.

xxxxx She tip-toed over to her older brother’s be and lay down, her tiny frame curled up against his stomach. Benji shifted a little for her in his sleep, arms automatically wrapping around Jenna’s thin shoulders.

xxxxx “Love you,” she murmered to him, though he was already asleep. Her eyes closed and with his warmth, she too, managed to drift off, hoping for a Christmas miracle.

Two days later, a neighbor’s phone call to the police:

xxxxx“I just saw my neighbor beat his little girl with a baseball bat, she looks like she’s unconscious.”
xxxxx“Are you there with her now?”
xxxxx“No, I only saw her through my window. I don’t have any way to go in and stop it.”
xxxxx“What’s the address?”
xxxxx“154 Walker Street West,”
xxxxx“We’ll be right there,”
xxxxx“Thank you, please, hurry. I think he might go for the son next.”

Later that day:

xxxxx Jenna woke up in a hospital, with Benji in a chair beside her bed.

xxxxx “Benji?” she asked “What’s going on?”

xxxxx He smiled at her, tears streaming down his face, with his left arm bandaged and in a sling, “Thank God you’re alright Jenna. They’re taking us away!” he reached out his right hand to hers and held it tight.

xxxxx She looked at him, puzzled “Who’s taking us?”

xxxxx “The Government, we’re never going to see Father again, and its Christmas too!”

xxxxx Jenna choked up, though she felt hardly able to move. “Santa helped us,” she declared, and then, looking up, “thank you Santa.”

[phantomkitsune]

Wonderful!

[Overworkedandunderpaid]

Username: Overworkedandunderpaid
Word Count: 1041
Title: Forgiven

"Nan?" I pushed open the door hesitantly, the smell of dust and mothballs almost overwhelming me. I hated this room, and I hated this smell. It just kept reminding me that she was too old now. Too old to do anything, even dust her room like she used to.
"Michael? Come in!"
She didn't sound weak, the way I thought she should, and that relieved me. She sounded like she always had, but when I stepped reluctantly into the room and looked at her, propped against the pillows, skin almost translucent with the light from her bedside lamp, the reality of her situation crashed on me yet again. She was fading, and it wouldn't take long.
"I just thought I'd come and say Merry Christmas, Nan," I said, forcing a smile. I walked to her bedside and took her frail old hand. "It's Christmas eve."
Nan smiled at me, her blue eyes full of love. "Of course, my boy."
This was always so hard for me. Seeing her like this. The cancer had long since taken it's toll, and the doctors had said she might not live till Christmas. But Nan had held on, and I knew she would share this special day with me. But a niggling fear and told me to come today, to say Merry Christmas in case tomorrow... well, in case she didn't make it.
I hated myself for thinking like that.
I stayed with her, holding her hand and talking to her about anything and everything. I would miss her so much when she was gone. She had always been there for me, tottering around in her ancient '74 Chevrolet, picking me up from school every afternoon. She was my angel, and I wasn't ready to lose her.
"Michael?" my father whispered, peeking in from the corridor. "It's time to go."
My father had never known Nan very well, but he offered her a smile that she returned, as feeble as she was.
I stood from the chair by her bed, leaned down and kissed her wrinkled forehead. "Goodnight, Nan. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Let me in!" I yelled, trying to fight my way into the hospital.
"We can't do that, kiddo," a paramedic replied, his arm around my waist. "she doesn't want to see you."
"She's my Nan!" I screamed. "Let me in!"
The paramedic exchanged a grim glance with his partner. "I'm sorry. She said you weren't to go in. We can't let you."
I fought them, just like I'd always fought everyone for my Nan. I couldn't believe that she'd said I couldn't see her. She was dying, and she wouldn't even let me say goodbye. The betrayal was almost worse than the grief of losing her. Somewhere in the saner part of my mind I knew she was only looking out for me, like she'd always done. She didn't want my Christmas ruined by watching her pass away. But I felt it as a betrayal. A betrayal of my life with her. Like every time she'd held me and said she loved me was a lie.

Before I knew what was happening, it was that time of the year again.
"Merry Christmas, Michael," a work colleague shouted across the room. I lifted my head and gave him a half hearted smile.
"Yeah, Merry Christmas to you too..."
I don't think I ever forgave her. I loved her and I missed her, but I never forgave her. I spent every Christmas wondering; what would have happened to Christmas if she'd let me say goodbye? Christmas Eve was spent drinking myself into a stupor, and Christmas morning was about drinking more to get rid of the hangover. I locked myself in my house and I didn't answer the door. I never sent out cards and I hoped that maybe if I ignored it's existence, Christmas would never happen again.

Until I met her.

Her name was Kathryn. She was beautiful, smart, shy, and completely baffled by the world of technology. She was everything I needed. I met her when she moved into the office down the hall as the new floor manager at the beginning of September. When I asked her out on our first date after four months of conversation and flirting, she simply blushed and nodded, and that night while we were talking, she got everything from me. I told her my story, about my father kicking me out after he got remarried. I told her about my horse and how he died when my girlfriend tried to jump him over a fallen tree and he landed wrong. I told her how that same girlfriend was now in a wheelchair after my horse had landed on her, and how my cousin had told me all my life that it was all my fault. I told her about the time I'd locked myself in my father's shed and set it on fire when I was twelve, and how my Nan came and saved me.
And I told her about Nan. About how she died. About Christmas. I told her everything, and when I was done, I didn't blame her for running out of the restaurant as though I were a freak show in a side alley, trying to lure her in so I could kill her.
What surprised me was when she came back and found me slumped over the menus at the restaurant. What surprised me was that she sat beside me and rubbed my back, and murmured words of sympathy and acceptance in my ear. Then she handed me a photo frame with the words 'Never Gone' engraved in the silver.

When Kathryn said she'd marry me on Christmas Eve, I forgot that this was the last time I'd spoken with my Nan. And when we went out and told everybody on Christmas day, I forgot that I had never forgiven Nan for keeping me from saying goodbye. I drove her '74 Chevrolet down to my dad's house that day, with Kathryn beside me. And Christmas started being about now, not then, and it started being about forgiveness, not resentment. It started being about Kathryn, and later our children, and it stopped being about how Nan died. It started being Christmas.

[Yonderponder]

O: Entering, I am. Yes, yes. <3

[Yonderponder]

Username: Yonder-chan
Word Count: 1157
Title: Tale of a Tree

--

My first memory is of darkness. My second is of warmth.

I am now a small sprout, hiding beneath all of the others, unnoticed. The warmth soon turns cold. I shiver at night, when the sun is not out. All of the other trees are buzzing with excitement though. Christmas is coming.

What is Christmas?

Christmas is a special occasion, I am told, that occurs once a year. Near that time, a special few of us are chosen to become Christmas trees. The very sound of the name makes me want to be one. I tell the others that I want to become a Christmas tree.

They laugh at me. I am too small, too puny, to become a magnificent Christmas tree. Only the largest and fullest are chosen. I don't mind waiting, I decide.

Soon, strange creatures begin to appear, sizing us up. I am told that these are the beings that will take us away to become Christmas trees. I stand up taller, push my branches out wider, hoping to be chosen. I am not.

One day though, the tree next to me is chosen. Three beings have gathered around it. I am happy for my fellow tree, if not a little jealous.

My roots run cold though when I hear the tree's screams. One of the beings has begun to chop away at the its trunk. I watch in horror as the tree falls to the ground and is dragged away. I stare at the remains of the trunk sticking feebly out of the snow. I don't think I want to be a Christmas tree anymore.

---

When it begins to grow warm again, I am still standing. Many of my fellow trees are not, though. I miss their company; the patch of grass around me feels sadly empty.

Five more cycles of cold and warmth pass. Each time Christmas grows near, I hunch down, hiding my glory from the beings. I do not want to be a Christmas tree anymore. The warmth comes again.

The sixth time it begins to grow cold, I begin to grow nervous. I am strong now. I am tall. I fear the Christmas selection. Snow begins to settle on the ground, signaling the coming of the beings. Indeed, within a few days, the first one appears, chopper in hand. It passes me by, disappearing into the tangle of other trees. For now, I am safe.

Days pass, and I am not chosen. I hold my breath each time a being comes along, trying to make myself look feeble and desolate. No success though. I, finally, am chosen to be a Christmas tree.

Being separated from my roots is the most painful event I think I shall ever experience. I'm being physically torn apart. I can feel my roots crying in agony. Then, silence. I don't receive any other messages from my roots, and I never shall again.

I fall to the ground, which is much harder than I ever would have imagined, and I am dragged away through the snow, the beings utterly careless about my branches and needles. My mind begins to wander at this point, my lower half having gone numb now. At some point, I am heaved into the air and forced through a loud machine which binds my branches against me. More pain, more agony.

I do not want to be a Christmas tree.

One of the beings picks me up and ties me to the top of another loud machine, and I am transported to a gathering of shelters. The machine stops, and I am removed from the top. Again, I am dragged across the ground until I reach one of the shelters. It's warm inside, I notice.

I am set up straight again, the remains of my trunk fit into a small bowl with some form of bracing keeping me upwards. My bindings are cut, and my branches are released. The beings pour some water into the bowl. It's only then I realize how thirsty I have become. I drink it all. I am left alone for the night.

The next day, the beings are back. My branches have settled, though are still sore and stiff from the ties.

Shiny things are hung all over me. The beings look happy - their actions seem loving. I begin to relax. Soon, I am covered in all sorts of trinkets and lights. I am beautiful. So this is what it means to be a Christmas tree. I am proud now; I can not help it. I have never looked so magnificent.

The days following, the beings all gather around and appreciate me. I am glad I have become a Christmas tree, I decide. Then it is Christmas day, and many packages are placed under me, all of them covered in bright colors. What I sight I must look with those wonderful things beneath me! I watch with pride as the beings gather around again, marveling at the view.

The day after that, I am almost forgotten. My daily water is late, and when I finally receive it, I find I can not drink. I begin to panic. The water in the bowl is plentiful, but I can not seem to drink it. The day after that, I do not receive more water because my bowl is still full from the day before. I begin to grow weak. I can not drink. My branches begin to sag. I can not drink. I begin to die.

By the time I am hauled out of the shelter and into the bitter cold once more, I am so weak that I barely notice the change. I shiver in the wind. Night comes, and I am drowned in darkness.

The following morning, a large machine arrives beside me. I barely have the strength to look at it. A being in blue hauls me into the air and I am thrown into the back of the machine. There, I find many more of my kind, all of them in the same state as my own. We try to whisper greetings to each other, but our voices have grown tired, just like our needles.

My last memories are those of when I stood covered in beautiful decorations, admired by all who saw me. I truly had loved being a Christmas tree.

---

[fragola Toki-nim]

I'll join. Last minute but I'll make it ^^

[phantomkitsune]

Wonderful!

I'll be upping the prizes later tonight.

[fragola Toki-nim]

Username: S i l e n c e S a i t o
Word Count: 1604
Title: A Beginning

"Gloriosa will be living with us from now on. I expect you all to be good children and help her out around the place," the kind-faced lady said to the room of sad-eyed children. She looked down at the unusually tall figure in front of her. "Gloriosa?"

The child turned around. She had a calm expression. "Yes, Ms. Strausser?"

"Why don't you introduce yourself?"

Gloriosa slowly nodded and turned back around to face the class. There was a long silence. Ms. Strausser's old heart went out to the girl. She put a comforting hand on the thin shoulder and gave it an encouraging squeeze.

"I'm... Gloriosa..." There was a pause. "I... I like... snow."

The children laughed. Ms. Strausser gave them the silent glare. They immediately quieted down but she still heard two or three snickering amongst themselves. She looked down at Gloriosa, who was standing very still and quietly.

"I like the snow, too," Ms. Strausser said softly. She looked out the window, where the morning sky was grey and snow fell silently. Then, she looked back at the children. "Christmas is tomorrow-"

Gloriosa brushed Ms. Strausser's hand off her shoulder. "I'm sorry. I need to go to the bathroom." Then, she walked out of the room. The children stared after her and then glanced at Ms. Strausser's worried expression.

"What happened to her parents?"

Ms. Strausser looked at the handsome young boy sitting at his desk with the chair tilting back. He had messy brown hair and sleepy blue eyes, and was the peacemaker. Rarely. He threw things in the girls' hairs and hid their toys. He got into fights with the boys and was always victorious, if ashamed after one of her lectures. But he looked out for the weakest of the group and did his best to help others, even if the others didn't realize it.

"Seidel, sit up straight," she scolded halfheartedly. He obeyed and waited for a reply. She smiled sadly and shook her head. "I can't say. It is up to Gloriosa and whether or not she wants to tell you."

He smiled. "I'll make her tell me."

"She's really pretty," said one of the girls up front. She was a sweet thing, with earnest blue eyes and curly blond hair.

"You think everyone's pretty, Chlothilde," Seidel said from the back and threw a paper ball at the girl's head. "Shut up."

Chlothilde turned her head and glared at him. "And you think everyone's ugly." She picked up the paper ball and threw it back at him. It missed but she turned back around with a satisfied expression.

Ms. Strausser shook her head, smiling.

She had been running the orphanage for years now. Ever since her dear old friend brought over a couple of orphans from Germany, she worked and cared for these children. They had grown accustomed to the English language and spoke it fluently, with the lightest German accents. Her friends, a number of them quite well off, financially supported her and sometimes visited to give gifts to the children.

"Ms. Strausser!"

There was a pale-faced boy standing in the doorway. He pointed down the hallway. "There's a girl throwing up in the bathroom."

Ms. Strausser ran out of the room and down the halls. She saw the closed bathroom door. She tried to turn the door knob but it was locked. She could hear the violent gags and gasps coming from behind the door.

"Gloriosa? Sweetheart, open this door." Ms. Strausser waited but nothing happened. She knocked and fumbled with the door knob.

"I got this."

Ms. Strausser moved aside and watched as Seidel stuck the long end of his cross necklace inside the door knob and turned it. He opened it and didn't make a disgusted face when he saw Gloriosa throw up into the toilet.

"Gloriosa!" Ms. Strausser stood behind Gloriosa and gently patted her back.

Finally, Gloriosa was done. She spat into the toilet and stood up shakily. She flushed down the waste and stood at the sink, wordlessly rinsing her mouth and splashing water on her face. When she was done, Ms. Strausser held out a clean towel to her. Gloriosa just stared at her with haunted green eyes.

"Next time, tell me when you're not feeling well," Ms. Strausser said and gently patted Gloriosa's face dry for her. She straightened up and noticed Seidel was still standing there. "Thank you, Seidel." He nodded and stared at Gloriosa. Ms. Strausser noticed Gloriosa was staring back at him, too. "Gloriosa, this is Seidel. He's two years older than you."

Gloriosa smiled at him, her eyes glassy and hollow. "Nice to meet you."

Seidel smiled back, and to Ms. Strausser's horror, said, "You look like crap."

"Seidel!" Ms. Strausser said but stopped when she heard Gloriosa laugh.

"I know," Gloriosa replied. The disturbing look in her eye was gone now. She was pretty when she was smiling. There was a dimple in her right cheek.

Suddenly, Seidel cleared his throat, looking nervous. Ms. Strausser was surprised. Seidel was never nervous.

"What about the other kids?" Ms. Strausser suddenly said.

"They're playing in the snow," Seidel said with a shrug. He looked at Gloriosa. "I'm about to go join them." He waited.

Gloriosa's cheeks grew a soft pink. "Can... I come, too?"

Ms. Strausser almost died due to the display of utter innocence and adorableness.

"As long as you don't throw up, 'cause that was nasty." But Seidel was smiling when he said it.

"I don't know, sweetheart. Why don't you lie down for a bit?" Ms. Strausser suggested, worried. Gloriosa still looked a bit pale and her black hair was damp and stuck to her forehead.

"But I want to go outside with Seidel..." Gloriosa looked crestfallen. Seidel looked disappointed, too. Ms. Strausser sighed.

"Alright, you two. Button up your coats and wear your gloves- Do you have gloves, Gloriosa?" Ms. Strausser asked suddenly. Gloriosa shook her head. "Mine are a bit too big but would you like to use them-"

"She can use mine," Seidel said, sounding impatient. He grabbed Gloriosa's hand, making her blush even harder, and tugged her along. "I bet they're picking teams for Fortress already."

Gloriosa gave Ms. Strausser an uncertain look as she was dragged down the hallway. Ms. Strausser smiled and waved. The girl smiled back. But Ms. Strausser knew; Gloriosa was happy at the moment but at night, she would most likely cry. She would cry over her parents and then fall asleep with tear stained cheeks. If the happiness stopped for a moment, the dark feelings would overwhelm her.

It's a shame this had to happen around Christmas. Ms. Strausser thought as she went back inside the bathroom. She took out a roll of paper towels and Clorox from the bottom cabinet and began cleaning the toilet.

-

The children, all bright eyed and clean and warm in their pajamas, gathered around the living room. The fireplace was crackling and there was a movie marathon on T.V. Ms. Strausser had gathered up all the blankets in the house and pillows and passed them out. Some of the children were either sitting on the floor, hugging their pillows, or lying on the floor with blankets on top of them. The rest were sitting or lying on the couches, lips parted and eyes on the flashing screen.

Ms. Strausser smiled. They had begged to stay up until midnight. At first, she said no and they had all wordlessly and individually sulked during their baths. But then Gloriosa came up to her as she made dinner in the kitchen.

"Why can't we stay up till midnight, Ms. Strausser?" she had asked.

"I think it's best to sleep early and wake up early for Christmas," had been the lady's reply.

But then Gloriosa said, "But Seidel wants to watch the movie marathon tonight."

Ms. Strausser paused and smiled. "Did Seidel send you in here?"

Gloriosa smiled. "No." She wasn't a good liar. "I think the other kids are disappointed, too."

"Gloriosa-"

"Please? It can be my Christmas present," she said with begging eyes. "I really don't want to sleep alone tonight. We can all sleep in the living room, right?"

Ms. Strausser thought about it and finally said, "It's not your Christmas present." Gloriosa looked devastated. "But alright. Christmas Eve is better spent together anyways."

At the moment, Gloriosa was sharing a blanket with Seidel. They were a handsome pair, really. When Gloriosa laughed, Seidel looked at her and smiled. When Seidel said something about the movie, Gloriosa gave him a smile and shook her head, finding what he said silly.

Finally, after what seemed like such a long time, Ms. Strausser glanced at the clock and noticed it was exactly midnight. She saw the children were sleeping and turned off the T.V. She tucked blankets around each pair of shoulders, slipped pillows under their faces, and kissed their cheeks. She almost laughed when she came across Gloriosa and Seidel.

Gloriosa's head was resting against Seidel's shoulder and Seidel's head was leaning on top of her head. They looked completely comfortable and at peace. She noticed Seidel was holding Gloriosa's hand, even in his sleep.

"You silly children," Ms. Strausser whispered but gave them both each an endearing kiss on the cheek. She sat in her velvet couch, drew up the leg rest, and threw a blanket over her legs. She reached over and clicked off the lamp.

She thought for a moment, staring into the darkness. What should she make for Christmas breakfast? Then, she gave up and fell asleep.

-

The next morning...

"Merry Christmas!"

-THE END-

[This is posted on my blog: My Blog

[Arctic Ink]

I hope I'm not too late with this... It took em a while to write! biggrin

Username: Arctic Ink
Word count: 2222
Title: Chemistry

Jasmine held her tongue between her teeth as she reached across the table.
“Don’t!” her mother snapped, reaching out just in time to slap her young daughter’s wrist.
“Ow, mom,” Jasmine whined, pulling her hand away from the plate of glittering sugar treats. “I just wanted one.”
Her mother looked her up and down critically. “Well, you can have one when the guests arrive. In the meantime, why don’t you go and clean the bathroom for me? It hasn’t been done yet. And then go get changed into something more… happy.”
Jasmine looked down at her grey jeans and black dragon t-shirt, smiling at her mother’s choice of words. In this family, anything that was tie-dyed and fuzzy was depressing. Rolling her eyes, Jasmine grabbed a broom from the cupboard and walked through the hall to the bathroom. There were a few cobwebs around the fluorescent light, but other than that the white tiles and bathtub seemed spotless. Nonetheless, Jasmine began to slowly sweep the floor, taking her time about collecting every insignificant dust mote and cat hair. It still amazed her that the cats even liked sleeping in the bathroom, but then again, all their animals were pretty weird. For example, their youngest dog spent his days staring intently at the creek that ran through their back yard, the picture of immobilization.
When the floor was meticulously swept, Jasmine picked up a hair-tie from the resulting pile of dust and common bathroom items, shook it off, and attempted to put up what little hair she had left. She stared into the mirror as she did so. She was pretty, even she knew that, but she was shy. She had only recently gotten her dark brown hair cut into a sleek layered look that barely brushed her shoulders. She thought it complimented her elfish features very well, but her mother had been aghast, claiming that her only daughter was turning into some sort of tomboy. Of course, with all that black clothing, what else could it be?
She quickly gave up any attempt to control her hair and simply tucked it behind her ears ruefully, dropping the hair-tie on the bathroom counter. She grabbed the cleaning agent from under the sink and collected cleaning gloves and a small cloth before heading back into the bathroom to brave the bath.

“Jasmine?”
Jasmine sighed and rolled off her bed, dropping the Harry Potter book that she had received as a Christmas present that morning. “Yeah, mom?” she called out, reluctant to leave the comfort of her room.
“Come down here, the guests will be arriving soon!”
Surprised, Jasmine threw a glance at the window. It was already dark outside, and she knew family members always arrived early. Muttering a curse word that she had learnt from her older brothers, she hurried out of her room and down the rickety old staircase which came out in the kitchen.
“Take these plates out, will you?” her mother asked, shoving a handful of paper plates at her. The kitchen was spotless, as usual, and there were only a few pots simmering away on the hotplate. No doubt most of the food had been moved out onto the patio. It was ridiculous, but for some reason, they had always eaten outside on Christmas day – so what if it was the middle of winter?
Jasmine began setting down plates in piles of eight every few steps along the table, reasoning that people could grab their own when they arrived.
When the doorbell rang for the first time and her mother welcomed a small family into the living room, Jasmine was still finishing up putting out the cutlery. She reached out and snuck a sugar lolly, popping it into her mouth before going back inside to greet the first of many guests.
Her family was large. Aunts, Uncles, grandparents, cousins, nieces, and nephews were going to be coming, and her mother was the last in a family of twelve. Her father… well, in spite of the fact that he had died seven years ago, two months before Jasmine’s eleventh birthday, his family continued to come around on Christmas to join in the festivities. At least his family was a reasonable size, thought Jasmine as an uncle on her father’s side came bursting through the door. Her father had only come from a family of four sons.
“Hey, Uncle Robert,” Jasmine greeted, walking up to her father’s brother with her arms spread wide. Immediately, Uncle Robert swept her up into a huge bone cracking hug, chuckling his season’s greetings through his tangled beard.
As more and more guests arrived, Jasmine’s mood began to become more festive. Her mother had made her wear a very brightly coloured Christmas shirt with a tree and kittens on it, as well as a neon coloured yellow skirt that fell to just above her knees. She was certainly brightly dressed, and many people seemed intent on pointing out how cute she was. She passed one particular great aunt who gripped her by the shoulders and said loudly; “Why, I haven’t seen you since you were two years old!” She then pulled Jasmine into yet another crushing hug, and then held her at an arms length. “Do you remember me?” she asked, as though it were reasonable to expect her to remember a musty smelling great aunt from when she was two. Jasmine simply apologized and said no, but someone in her head she was rolling her eyes and muttering ‘I was two. I probably remember your knees.’
As she moved through the crowd muttering Merry Christmas’s to anyone and everyone, she noticed a small family of three talking animatedly with her mother. The woman of the family was obviously heavily pregnant, and her husband had an arm about her shoulders. Their son was standing off to the side, a can of soft drink in his hand as he looked about the room with wide eyes.
Jasmine turned quickly on her heel and disappeared into the kitchen, making up excuses as she went about needing to get more drinks for everybody. When she managed to get into the linoleum safety of the kitchen, she leaned against the kitchen counter and put a hand over her heart. Soon they would be going out into the garden and she would have to stand at the door with her mother and hand out nametags as they went into the backyard. She took a steadying breath. Well then, she’d have to face him.
She grabbed a glass and poured herself some water, gulping it down before she left the kitchen. More and more people were arriving, and they were running out of room. It wasn’t long before her mother found her, and she and Jasmine went, as they always did, to stand beside the door and hand out nametags.
As people began to pass them, Jasmine leaned over to her mother, fake smile plastered on her face.
“Why are the Priam’s here?” she asked quietly. “Isn’t this supposed to be family only?”
Her mother looked at her, startled. “They’re our new neighbours, sweetie! I could hardly ignore them!”
She rolled her eyes, giving up the pretence of handing out nametags. “Mom, they’ve lived in the same town as us for the past nine years.”
Her mother shifted uncomfortably. “Well yes, but they only moved next door last month.”
Jasmine exhaled in resignation, not because there was nothing more to be said, but because the Priam’s were suddenly standing before them, smiling sweetly. Her mother found the nametag so Jasmine simply stood there and gave her Christmas greetings, her eyes subtly flicking back to stare at him. Anthony Priam. He went to her school, hung out with her friends, was the captain of just about everything… But, they had never spoken. At least not directly. And over the course of the last year, when they had been rivals for the first place in chemistry, they had become even more awkward around each other than before.
And yet, even though they had never really spoken, Jasmine hade a monolithic crush on him – and had suffered from this affliction for over eight months now.
It surprised her when he spoke to her tonight. “Hey, Merry Christmas Jazz,” he said warmly, smiling at her. He knew her nickname, but that wasn’t surprising. He was one of the most popular guys in town. Jasmine smiled at him as he and his family strolled through the door.
“Whoo, he’s cute,” her mom said, leaning in to whisper at her. Jasmine waved a hand.
“Mom!”
Her mother simply laughed and continued handing out nametags. Jasmine looked out after the Priams, and located Anthony. She studied him, as she had many times during the past few months. He fit every cliché – tall dark and handsome – and his face looked like it was made to be serious. And yet, his dream was to become a comedian. He was such a good student – he aced everything with ease – but he only wanted to make people laugh. Jasmine sighed.

There was so much laughter and so much noise as the night settled into it’s usual steady rhythm that Jasmine almost forgot that there were unrelated guests at the family party. There were all the usual party games, some Christmassy, others not so much. Jasmine laughed with all the others when the apple bobbing dish came out, and someone suggested simply plunging in as far as you could and pinning an apple against the bottom of the large bowl. Uncle Robert volunteered first, and as he contemplated how to fit his head into the bowl, his son of twenty two walked stealthily up behind him and shoved his head into the water. When Uncle Robert resurfaced, apple in his mouth and grin half hidden, he seized another apple from the bowl and pelted it at his son, who was now running into the darkness and snow. The yelp alerted them to the fact that Uncle Rob had hit his target.
It was at least ten o’clock by the time Jasmine grew unbearably thirsty, and she excused herself from the conversations, running inside to grab a soft drink from the fridge. She was already half way out the kitchen door when someone on the other side opened it.
“Oh!” Jasmine yelped, stumbling backwards and almost losing her footing.
A hand reached out and grabbed her before she fell, fingers wrapped securely around her wrist. “Crap, I’m sorry, are you okay?”
Jasmine looked up at Anthony, who was pulling her back toward him so she could stand on her own again.
“I’m fine,” she responded, wrapping both of her hands around her soft drink can nervously.
He smiled. “Good.” There was a moment of awkward silence. He didn’t seem to be going anywhere, and she couldn’t move past him. “Look, I was just wondering… There are no hard feelings about the Chemistry thing, right?”
Jasmine blushed. “No. No of course not. I mean, we’re friends right?” she joked.
He looked at her thoughtfully. “Right,” he muttered slowly.
She reddened even more, wondering if she had made too much of an assumption by assuming they were friends. Anthony looked up, as though searching for a polite way out of the awkwardness that surrounded them. Then he looked back down at her.
“Well, you know, it’s Christmas,” he said, offering her another little smile. Jasmine smiled in response.
“Yeah. It is, you can tell from all the –”
Anthony reached out and cupped her face in both hands, his eyes very serious and dark. Then he leaned down and kissed her – it was almost hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if he was crossing a boundary. When Jasmine didn’t fight back, he pulled her closer to him and kissed her in a different way, a way that was sweet and sexy at the same time. Like he wanted to make his intentions clear.
“Mistletoe?” he asked after breaking the kiss, finishing her sentence.
“Uh… Yeah, why not?” she breathed, too shocked to think of a snappier reply.
He smiled at her. “Well, I don’t think we’ve used this one up yet,” he said slyly, pulling her by the hand to the middle of the kitchen so that no one could see.
This kiss was much longer, much more confident. She could feel her heart beating rapidly. In fact, she could feel everything at once, and it was wonderfully confusing. His lips were warm and soft and so seductive, and all she wanted to do was continue kissing him.
“Jasmine?” someone called from outside. The two broke apart quickly, guilt flashing across both faces when Jasmine’s mother walked into the kitchen.
“Oh, hey mom,” Jasmine said quickly, sure she was blushing again.
Her mother looked between Jasmine and Anthony, her eyes narrowed and speculative. She looked at the door frame above her and Jasmine almost cursed. Of course. She waited for the snippy command to come back to the garden and celebrate with family, and she shot an apologetic look at Anthony.
He smiled and shrugged, his face telling her that mistletoe wouldn’t be needed to make excuses for their kisses much longer.
She turned back to her mother, who opened her mouth to issue the order. But instead, something not entirely surprising came from her mother’s lips that made Jasmine grin.

“There’s more mistletoe in the living room.”

[phantomkitsune]

Yay, more entries! Prizes updated.

[Oltremare]

Ooh. wink I'm joining.

[phantomkitsune]

Great! Be sure to get it in tonight.

[Snow Prelude]

Are we allowed to use stories we've submitted in other contests? ^^