Christmases growing up were always fun. From the very beginning of December, Rory's family would start celebrating. The Williams' were known as one of the most extravagantly festive families in his town.
They would always do every single thing that was even remotely festive. Stringing popcorn and cranberries, making paper chains, lighting up the entire street with the fairy lights on their singular house—the more clichéd the gestures, the more enjoyable they were.
The most enjoyable part of the holiday season, however cheesy it may have seemed, was simply being with his family. Him, his younger sister Alexis, and his parents—they all found much comfort and joy in the presence of each other. Their family traditions were one of Rory's most treasured part of his childhood.
For the first 16 years of his life, Christmas was Rory's favourite part of the year.
It was December 24th, 2005. His family were surrounded in the living room watching Strawberry Shortcake: Berry Merry Christmas. Alexis was 12 years old that year, and it was her favourite Christmas movie.
Rory was sitting on the lounge with Alexis curled into his side. They'd been singing along to the catchy tunes all through the song—Rory more to please his sister than anything else. One minute, they were caught up in the lyrics of a song, and the next, Alexis' throat was closing up. Breaths more erratic and desperate, face purpling.
She died, that day. In the panicked blur, she was rushed to the closest hospital, where she took her last gasp of air. Asthma, they said. It was coming all along, they said.
Christmas was never the same again.
Rory became a recluse. He isolated himself. Not only because he hurt too much to be bothered keeping up with relationships, but also out of fear of becoming hurt again.
He spent most of his time studying or sleeping. School was a nightmare—even though his grades had risen due to his decrease in socialisation, he suddenly found the large crowds and chaotic noise intolerable. He spent every lunch, recess and free period in the library, finding comfort in the quiet.
For a while, his old friends had tried to bring him out of his hard shell. After a while, though, they found it too difficult and time-consuming to continue. Odd as it may have seemed, Rory was glad that they stopped. He had never asked for their assistance in the first place, anyway.
His days always went in the exact same pattern: eat, go to school, study, sleep. The routine kept him occupied and content—as content as one may be with a dead sibling. Half the time he was numbed by a dull haze, but he forced himself to focus nonetheless.
At least all of it paid off. He soon found himself graduating with top marks. He applied to study at a top university to be a nurse—so he could help save any future Alexis' there may be—and they accepted him straight away. Perhaps, he believed, maybe his life could turn out half-decent after all.
It was Christmas Eve in 2008, exactly three years after her death. He'd been planning on sleeping off the grief when he was practically forced out by his roommate to attend a Christmas party. No matter he much he refused the invitation, Jack was deeply stubborn and refused to accept no for an answer. Jack was the one person who even bothered with him anymore. They'd known each other for only a year, but on some level—possibly through grief of his own—Jack just understood.
Rory was huddled on a couch in the basement of the party house. The house upstairs was pumping music, and the books that filled this room were reminiscent of his old school library. With the door closed and his earphones angled in his ears just so, he managed to filter out the low-quality dubstep and replace it with some of his favourite soothing tracks. He just wanted to grieve in peace.
He was immersed in the music when he was jolted back into reality by a soft tap on his elbow.
"Um, hey. Are you okay?" The offender was a young women who seemed as confident as he was unsure. Her bold red hair shifted with her movements as she realised that she was still touching him and placed her arm back by her side.
Rory cast his eyes around the room, looking for an easy exit. He inwardly sighed when the girl was back in his line of vision, still waiting for a response.
"No. I'm never okay," he swallowed, opting for truth in the hopes that she'd take the hint and leave. Instead, she walked around to the front of the lounge before seemingly collapsing into it.
"Neither."
Hope you all enjoyed this! It's fairly low-quality considering it's the first time I've written in months, but at least it's an improvement on not writing at all. Going over this now it seems so awkward and I don't even know what I'll put for the summary, but I guess by the time you read this I'll have figured it out c:
Happy holidays! x