==A Snowdrop for Sorrow==
December 26th, 2013
Owen sighed and put away his book, before walking over to the cage that now rested on his desk. “Hi, Snowdrop,” he greeted the fat baby bunny who had been his Christmas present this year. “How’s your water?” A quick check of the food and water levels in the bunny’s dishes showed that she was alright, and the blue-haired little boy reached in, pulling her out with careful hands. “Come on, Snowdrop, we can sit on my bed,” he said, holding the small white rabbit close to his chest like his mother had taught him yesterday.
Christmases with his mother were small out of necessity, usually with only one or two presents. This year, he had gotten this bunny, along with the things needed to give her a comfortable life in their little apartment – an extravagant holiday, all things considered. But as wonderful as the Dwarf Hotot was, as nice as it was to have permanent company around the house, she wasn’t what he had really wanted for Christmas.
What Owen had wanted for Christmas was the same thing he had wanted every year since he was old enough to question his mother – to find out who his father was, and maybe, just maybe, get to see him. He wasn’t little enough to believe the silly stork story, or the cabbage patch one or even the baby-mart one any longer. He didn’t know how it worked, exactly (And quite frankly he wasn’t sure he wanted to know, since it obviously had to do with kissing and kissing was gross!), but he knew it took parents to make a baby.
Which meant he had a Dad somewhere, or had one once upon a time. But he had no memory of one, his Mom never talked about there being one out there, and there were no pictures of someone who looked like him. His Mama’s hair was a different color, even though he had her eyes. And no-one in her family had blue hair, so why did he? Didn’t that mean he got it from his Dad? He’d kept an eye out for men who might be him, but never saw anything promising.
And… now that he was older, he knew better than to ask his mother straight-out. She always got uncomfortable and changed the subject on him – and when he would press her about it, she only got upset. So he couldn’t ask her, and he couldn’t find anything, so he was left to hope that some holiday, his father would turn up. If he wished hard enough, maybe this year would be the one. This Christmas, or this birthday?
But another Christmas had just come and gone, and nothing had happened. Owen was getting tired of hoping. Shaking his head, he sat down on his bed with Snowdrop on his lap, and scratched her between the ears. “You don’t know where he is, do you Snowdrop?” He asked. The rabbit’s pink nose twitched, but she was otherwise silent.
“That’s okay. A bunny’s prob’ly better company than a Dad, anyway.”
Word Count: 509
