It's just nearing Christmastime, a time that is filled with those wondrous Christmas jingles and those horrid Christmas drivers rushing to get the latest gadget from Apple or that new pea coat that just went on sale. Nonetheless, it is Christmas and you are all for it. Already your house, although small, had a wreath on the door and a tree presented in your living room decked out in both funny and traditional ornaments and that star you made back when you were a kindergartener. You think it is honoring considering your parents have kept that since your kiddie years but still, a change in the tree topper would be nice.
You turn to your best friend _ during that last class of the semester before finally hitting up the Christmas break and maybe catching a movie or two before starting the new semester. "So, what are you doing over the break?" You ask although you are pretty sure that they are going out to some distant land and leaving you alone for the break. "Hawaii with the folks." They retort and you roll your eyes; you knew it. You sigh as your teacher hands you the final and you stare at it, hoping to some powerful deity that you will pass and not have to retake the semester over again.
The class finally ends and you step out of your school to be struck bewildered. It hasn't been snowing for quite some time and the weather man had given you no indication that it was going to snow any time soon…but here it is, falling like the contents of a beaten up feather pillow. You stick your tongue out to catch a flake and reminisce at the cold sensation it sends through your body. As you stand there for the time being, enjoying the gift that it was to be around the snow, a group of boys in their large pickup truck speed passed you and hit you with snowballs.
It isn't anything new, you tell yourself but then again sometimes it really does suck when it feels like you are the outcast in this supposed 'equal' world. You shake your head and start your walk home which wasn't that far to begin with; both a curse and a blessing. Your mother is pulling out of the drive way as you approach your household and your sibling is in the back, biting at their fingers. "I'm going shopping for a little while. There is soup in the pantry for you." She calls out before leaving your driveway barren and you enter the house, somewhat relieved by the house's natural heat.
Your house doesn't meet most requirements when it comes to the 'homey' feel of the Christmas time but it was enough. You smile at your mother's attempts at homemade decorations with your sibling on the stairwell and almost feel content when you see that old Santa Christmas plate already waiting impatiently on your counter, eager to present its treasures to the big SC himself. You think back to when you were naïve, when those tales of Santa Clause and the Easter Bunny were 'real'. Those were simpler times, you think and then trudge up the stairs to your bedroom.
It always fit your style in some way. Your mother had tried her hardest to make your room like those dream rooms on Extreme Home Makeover and she truly did a pretty stand up job. You sit on your bed and grab your diary, deciding to give it a good fill-in considering it has been over a few months since you've documented your whereabouts. You write about the finals and how you feel you'll be a little lonely without your best friend there to at least send a nice Merry Christmas text to.
You then write about how you miss being a child, just a little because being older with boobs is a plus in your book, but you write on how you miss not having to bother with finding a job or getting your license, or just thinking about life in general because you have to admit, when you were a kid you didn't think about those things. You remember thinking about ponies or being a vet…how it felt every Christmas morning to rush down the stairs and take a peek into your stocking without your mother knowing and then when they come down to open the presents you are just itching to see if Santa got you what you wanted.
At times you wish that you can go back to believing in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. You want to go back to when you believed in the Tooth Fairy and that when you went to Disney Land those costumed mice were the real Mickey and Minnie Mouse. You sigh and gaze out your window for a short time being and then close your eyes, remembering the sensation of being a kid. You think of the first time you ever saw snow and the first time you made a snow angel. You remember the dancing and pointless romping in the snow for you were a kid back then and didn't care if your friends or those kids from school saw you.
As you open your eyes again, you turn to see that the roads have gotten whiter since you last saw them and marvel at the developing blanket of snow on the road. You wonder if any cars would drive through it and ruin its beauty but then again you kind of want to go out and lay in it yourself. You shake your head at your foolish fantasies but then give into your temptations and grab your snow boots before trudging yourself back into the winter wonderland.
You lay in the snow for a while and just stare at the beautiful cloudy sky above and feel at peace, surrounded by white. You stare a while until you hear the sound of the neighbor kids across the street squealing in glee. You perk up and eye them for a moment, contemplating what exactly it was that they were doing and they were partaking in a snowball fight. How fun!
You brush yourself off from the snow and immediately start your own personal fort as you toss a ball of snow their way, hitting their white picket fence. "Hey!" The youngest boy calls out and then they turn on you, ready to make your attempt to join in their fun a huge regret. You clump the snow as fast as your hands are capable but it is so hard when you are only wearing knit gloves. You feel like giving up for a moment but turn once to see a pile of perfectly shaped snowballs at your side. "What?" You ask aloud but disregard it for the time being as you send a nice round of snowballs to your enemy's side.
The snowball fight lasts for around ten minutes until they are called inside for dinner. You smile at the sudden rush of childish actions you had just taken part of before entering your house. You grab a can of soup from the pantry and heat its contents in a small sauce pan as you turn the radio to your favorite holiday station and it turns to your favorite holiday song. You hum along, moving your hips side to side as you decide to toast some bread to go along with your soup.
Your soup smells amazing, as is what is expected, and you set down at your kitchen table to feast upon your soup; indulging in the way it tastes. Your sibling would probably hate it. As you eat you sigh as you have a small epiphany that your tastes have evolved since your childhood days. You eat anyway, enjoying the taste and then you hear something brushing against your front door. At first you ignore it considering it must have been the wind or something but then it comes again, sounding much like a knock opposed to the rustling wind. You glance to your dinner then to the door. It could be your mother, you tell yourself but then again it could be some guy ready to take advantage of a girl alone on a snowy night. You go for the better and open the front door to see nothing but the quiet snow blanketed neighborhood.
You scratch your head for a moment then return to your table and see a melting ball of snow on the table. You look around because you know you didn't track any snow in from your time outside. You gulp down for a second and brace yourself, your fists at the ready. Then another pile of snow covers the one that was already melting and you take a step closer, wondering if maybe there was a leak in the ceiling? But how could that be possible if you live in a two story house and your bedroom was right above the kitchen?
You brace yourself and think. What could have been the reason for the snow? You think to yourself for a moment and head over to the pots and pans and place one where the snow was dropping; in case there was a leak. You look around some more and think. This doesn't make any sense…snow in your house? You think a bit longer then turn with your hands at the ready. Was this one of these freaky episodes when some wannabe holiday character loses his wits and actually thinks they are the character? Not knowing what else to do you start calling out holiday icons.
"Santa Claus?"
No answer.
"Mrs. Claus?"
No answer.
"Rudolf?"
No answer.
You think hard for a short moment and then run through your mind the countless old Christmas movies and then run across the old Claymation ones you had watched with your sibling just recently.
"Jack Frost?"
There's a rustling by the cupboards and you take a step closer, questioning what was going on. "Jack Frost?" You call out again and you see a silhouette coming out from behind your refrigerator. The silhouette takes a few more steps closer to your position until you can see the gleam of its hair; white like snow. You're terrified and you grab for the sauce pan you set under the snow drop and take a swing, hitting the white haired silhouette unconscious. You then take a moment to take it all in before running up the stairs to lock yourself in your bedroom and call the police. After you call them you cower yourself in the corner of your bed and grab your diary.
Dear Diary,
PS: I hit Jack Frost today.