I
The candle burnt a deep ruby color. It illuminated only half of the large room. The tree was shining all by itself. It had hundreds of little lights blinking on and off. It was by this light that I selected my present.
As I tore the glistening paper, I looked for hope from Nana. Sure enough, a bright smile filled the old woman's face. A single tear danced down her cheek as "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas" played softly in the background. The music didn't cover the noise. It never did.
"You whore! How could you do this to me!?"
"Honey, it'll be okay, just look at your present." Nana knew it wasn't going to be all right, but I didn't. They were my parents after all.
"Teddy please, let me explain!"
"Explain what? I saw you!" My father sounded so hurt and furious at the same time. "How can you do this to… to… to my child?"
"Lily is my child too!"
"Then give a damn about her for once!"
"Teddy, I love you. Please!"
"You probably said the same thing to him! Didn't you Mary?"
My mother didn't answer.
"Didn't you?"
I heard the smack of flesh against flesh. To this day I don't know if my father hit my mother or if my mother hit him, probably the latter.
"Get out!" A hurt scream came from my mother. "Leave, leave!"
My father came out of the kitchen. Tears steamed down his strong jaw. At the time I didn't know why he went to the room and pulled his suitcase from underneath my parent's king size bed. He packed as much as he could. He left most of his clothes, but the one thing he packed besides his clothing was a picture. It was me kissing my mother.
He came out of the room. My Nana's eyes were puffy and wet. My father took the little woman into his arms, and held her in a warm loving embrace.
I looked at my mother, in the kitchen. She was bent over in a corner… sobbing. I turned again to hear my Nana whisper something in his ear.
"I'm sorry." Nana bit her lower lip to hold back a whimper. "I love you, Ted. She does too, just don=t leave."
"I'm sorry, Anne." He kissed her cheek.
I was next. I didn't want him to kiss me, because then he could leave. It would be like I said it was okay for him to leave. It wasn't. When he bent over I scurried away like a frightened mouse. I thought anything but that kiss.
With tears in his eyes my father got to his knees and begged me to kiss him. "Princess, please? I don=t want to leave without a kiss from you."
"Then don=t leave, Daddy. I love you," I replied.
"Honey, it isn=t that simple…"
"Why isn't it simple?" I just wanted him to kiss my mother, and forget it had ever happened.
"Please, Lily?" He was crying now like a child… like me. "Lily?"
My destiny was to betray myself with a kiss, and at that moment I did. I bent over and kissed my weeping father. How could I ever know it was the last time I would feel his strong arms covering my body in an innocent embrace?
He stood and walked to the kitchen. My father tenderly held my mother in his arms then the most passionate kiss I have seen happened in front of my eyes. I could hear Nana behind me she had broken down. I shut my eyes tightly because I didn't want to see him leave.
The next sound I heard was the worst sound I have ever and will ever hear. It was the shutting of my front door. My father had shut the door on me forever. He didn't want to… I hope. He had to. Every night for two years that sound haunted my dreams. Click… click… click.
I don't remember seeing my Nana cry any other time in my life, not even when Papa died. She had always been the shoulder to cry on. Our family always had her. She was our knight in shining armor, always there with a sweet comment or good advice. Now here she was alone and crying. This broken woman who was once the greatest of them all. It was the last time we ever saw him.
I didn't sleep until late that night. Nor the night after. I remember vividly looking as the clock struck midnight. It was Christmas and my father had left, never to return. My heart broke as the snow fell outside our New York apartment.
~*~
My dream that night was a startling one. I was lying in my bed, covered in white satin and velvet sheets. I turned my head and there was a stuffed wolf on the pillow next to mine. It was wearing a sleeping bonnet and had an evil mocking smile on his face.
His teeth were of real ivory, sharpened to a razor sharp point. I placed my finger on one of the teeth it pierced my finger. The blood came out in such a large amount that it dyed my nightshirt crimson.
I don't know why, but I ran. I ran for so long, it seemed. I was outside on the street when I saw a door. The door was just sitting there in the middle of the road. I went to open it. It wouldn't budge. Like Arthur with Caliburn, I tried again. Then a third and final time I pulled it.
It opened.
I looked inside. I saw my father walking away from me. I called out his name to find I had no voice. I called again but it was too late. I closed my eyes and wept.
When I opened my eyes again I saw my Nana=s body sprawled, lifeless on the floor of some closet. It took a while for it to register in my head. Her right leg was bent unnaturally behind her, her neck had a slash across the left side and there were a great many stab wounds in her upper and lower torso.
I screamed.
When I awoke I found my mother holding me in her arms. We were rocking back and forth and she was whispering in my ear.
"It's okay sweetheart. Shh. It's okay."
My voice trembled, and I bit my lower lip. After a minute or two of complete silence I forced myself to utter the words that were ringing in my head. "Where is dad?"
When my mother began to cry, I knew I was alone.
~*~
When I awoke that morning I felt a fear swell up inside of my stomach. I remember waiting and staring at the cookies, on the hearth, I had left for the old fat guy. Not to my surprise my mother had not taken them away as she usually did. Santa, like everything else in my world, seemed so distant. Like the artificial butter at the bottom of your popcorn bag, I wanted nothing to do with the world.
Nana had left sometime during the night. It was my and mother now. When she came from her room, her eyes glistening with tears, she hugged me tenderly. "You okay?"
I looked wildly at her. 'You okay?' What kind of a question is that? My father had left us and all she could ask was, 'You okay?' I put my anger behind me and shook my head. Again we hugged, I don't know for how long, but it seemed like a lifetime.
Something caught my attention. It was the sparkling package Nana had wanted me to open during my parents' fight.
I looked at it now. The left side had a rip in it, from when I started to open it. I had a flash back to my dream that night, Nana's neck was slashed just like the paper. I finished the job now ripping as hard as I could. I remember the paper being off it totally yet I still ripped I don't know just who the paper represented, my mother or father, but I ripped pretending it was their flesh under my skin.
Inside the box was something red. It wasn't until I held it up in front of me that I realized it was a hooded sweater. It fit comfortably and tightly.
Every year since then my grandmother would send one package containing a red hooded sweater.
The odd thing is that I always remember her calling me Lily but the boxes were addressed to Liliana Williams. It was so formal… So cold… So sad…
The candle burnt a deep ruby color. It illuminated only half of the large room. The tree was shining all by itself. It had hundreds of little lights blinking on and off. It was by this light that I selected my present.
As I tore the glistening paper, I looked for hope from Nana. Sure enough, a bright smile filled the old woman's face. A single tear danced down her cheek as "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas" played softly in the background. The music didn't cover the noise. It never did.
"You whore! How could you do this to me!?"
"Honey, it'll be okay, just look at your present." Nana knew it wasn't going to be all right, but I didn't. They were my parents after all.
"Teddy please, let me explain!"
"Explain what? I saw you!" My father sounded so hurt and furious at the same time. "How can you do this to… to… to my child?"
"Lily is my child too!"
"Then give a damn about her for once!"
"Teddy, I love you. Please!"
"You probably said the same thing to him! Didn't you Mary?"
My mother didn't answer.
"Didn't you?"
I heard the smack of flesh against flesh. To this day I don't know if my father hit my mother or if my mother hit him, probably the latter.
"Get out!" A hurt scream came from my mother. "Leave, leave!"
My father came out of the kitchen. Tears steamed down his strong jaw. At the time I didn't know why he went to the room and pulled his suitcase from underneath my parent's king size bed. He packed as much as he could. He left most of his clothes, but the one thing he packed besides his clothing was a picture. It was me kissing my mother.
He came out of the room. My Nana's eyes were puffy and wet. My father took the little woman into his arms, and held her in a warm loving embrace.
I looked at my mother, in the kitchen. She was bent over in a corner… sobbing. I turned again to hear my Nana whisper something in his ear.
"I'm sorry." Nana bit her lower lip to hold back a whimper. "I love you, Ted. She does too, just don=t leave."
"I'm sorry, Anne." He kissed her cheek.
I was next. I didn't want him to kiss me, because then he could leave. It would be like I said it was okay for him to leave. It wasn't. When he bent over I scurried away like a frightened mouse. I thought anything but that kiss.
With tears in his eyes my father got to his knees and begged me to kiss him. "Princess, please? I don=t want to leave without a kiss from you."
"Then don=t leave, Daddy. I love you," I replied.
"Honey, it isn=t that simple…"
"Why isn't it simple?" I just wanted him to kiss my mother, and forget it had ever happened.
"Please, Lily?" He was crying now like a child… like me. "Lily?"
My destiny was to betray myself with a kiss, and at that moment I did. I bent over and kissed my weeping father. How could I ever know it was the last time I would feel his strong arms covering my body in an innocent embrace?
He stood and walked to the kitchen. My father tenderly held my mother in his arms then the most passionate kiss I have seen happened in front of my eyes. I could hear Nana behind me she had broken down. I shut my eyes tightly because I didn't want to see him leave.
The next sound I heard was the worst sound I have ever and will ever hear. It was the shutting of my front door. My father had shut the door on me forever. He didn't want to… I hope. He had to. Every night for two years that sound haunted my dreams. Click… click… click.
I don't remember seeing my Nana cry any other time in my life, not even when Papa died. She had always been the shoulder to cry on. Our family always had her. She was our knight in shining armor, always there with a sweet comment or good advice. Now here she was alone and crying. This broken woman who was once the greatest of them all. It was the last time we ever saw him.
I didn't sleep until late that night. Nor the night after. I remember vividly looking as the clock struck midnight. It was Christmas and my father had left, never to return. My heart broke as the snow fell outside our New York apartment.
~*~
My dream that night was a startling one. I was lying in my bed, covered in white satin and velvet sheets. I turned my head and there was a stuffed wolf on the pillow next to mine. It was wearing a sleeping bonnet and had an evil mocking smile on his face.
His teeth were of real ivory, sharpened to a razor sharp point. I placed my finger on one of the teeth it pierced my finger. The blood came out in such a large amount that it dyed my nightshirt crimson.
I don't know why, but I ran. I ran for so long, it seemed. I was outside on the street when I saw a door. The door was just sitting there in the middle of the road. I went to open it. It wouldn't budge. Like Arthur with Caliburn, I tried again. Then a third and final time I pulled it.
It opened.
I looked inside. I saw my father walking away from me. I called out his name to find I had no voice. I called again but it was too late. I closed my eyes and wept.
When I opened my eyes again I saw my Nana=s body sprawled, lifeless on the floor of some closet. It took a while for it to register in my head. Her right leg was bent unnaturally behind her, her neck had a slash across the left side and there were a great many stab wounds in her upper and lower torso.
I screamed.
When I awoke I found my mother holding me in her arms. We were rocking back and forth and she was whispering in my ear.
"It's okay sweetheart. Shh. It's okay."
My voice trembled, and I bit my lower lip. After a minute or two of complete silence I forced myself to utter the words that were ringing in my head. "Where is dad?"
When my mother began to cry, I knew I was alone.
~*~
When I awoke that morning I felt a fear swell up inside of my stomach. I remember waiting and staring at the cookies, on the hearth, I had left for the old fat guy. Not to my surprise my mother had not taken them away as she usually did. Santa, like everything else in my world, seemed so distant. Like the artificial butter at the bottom of your popcorn bag, I wanted nothing to do with the world.
Nana had left sometime during the night. It was my and mother now. When she came from her room, her eyes glistening with tears, she hugged me tenderly. "You okay?"
I looked wildly at her. 'You okay?' What kind of a question is that? My father had left us and all she could ask was, 'You okay?' I put my anger behind me and shook my head. Again we hugged, I don't know for how long, but it seemed like a lifetime.
Something caught my attention. It was the sparkling package Nana had wanted me to open during my parents' fight.
I looked at it now. The left side had a rip in it, from when I started to open it. I had a flash back to my dream that night, Nana's neck was slashed just like the paper. I finished the job now ripping as hard as I could. I remember the paper being off it totally yet I still ripped I don't know just who the paper represented, my mother or father, but I ripped pretending it was their flesh under my skin.
Inside the box was something red. It wasn't until I held it up in front of me that I realized it was a hooded sweater. It fit comfortably and tightly.
Every year since then my grandmother would send one package containing a red hooded sweater.
The odd thing is that I always remember her calling me Lily but the boxes were addressed to Liliana Williams. It was so formal… So cold… So sad…