HIYA! So I just knew I had to write a Christmas story. I kind of got inspiration from another story I hope it wont be exactly alike, but if you notice it is similar don't blame me. ENJOY!
He woke up to the sound of chirping birds perching outside my window. As he stretched and stepped out of bed, a chill went down his spine. He glanced towards the open window, with the curtains swaying in the breeze, and concluded that was the reason why it was so cold in his room.
Taking a glance at his calendar, with all the days marked off to December 24th, he felt glum.
He tried to make himself excited. Happy. Jolly, merry, joyful, everything. It just wouldn't work. It didn't seem anything like Christmas to him. Yet, he didn't know why. His life was nearly perfect, minus the monsterous teenagers nearly trampling and giving his wedgies every school day.
"Come on Fletch. Christmas is tomorrow! Be happy! You're going to Chyna's house tonight for Christmas Eve dinner!" He pep talked himself, hoping to get pumped up. To his surprise, he wasn't joyed by the fact that he was going to spend the evening with the love of his life (although she didn't know that she was meant for him yet, in his mind). After all, it was just going to be him and her. No one else. Well, if you don't count the parents. No one else. No. One. Else.
You see, that was a vital sentence to him. WITH NO ONE ELSE AT ALL. You see, usually his best friend Olive would've gone with him, but she wasn't there. She was in Florida. For Christmas. As much as she hated it, there would be no snow, Christmas trees, or a need to put on a heavy sweater while she was there. Poor Fletcher kind of felt sorry for her… himself too actually.
It won't be the same without her. But… theres nothing I can do about it. He thought.
She won't be there blurting out all of Santa Claus' names from all over the world like last year. I remember when we made that snowman 2 years ago that she insisted MUST wear a spiky-haired hate in honor of Albert Einstein-
He snapped out of his head long enough to realize that he was smiling and feeling all warm on the inside.
But it'll still be awesome! I mean, who needs her anyway? Feeling a pang of guilt and sadness in his heart, he slipped on his Hulk bedroom shoes and trudged down stairs into his kitchen. Wonderful smells of chocolate chip pancakes and bacon wafted up tohim. Practically drooling, Fletcher made his way to the table, where Mrs. Quimby placed a plate stacked with pancakes and bacon onto the smooth black tablecloth, right in front of the chair where he usually sits. He plopped down into his chair and despite the wonderful smells, he didn't feel like eating.
"Do you feel alright?" MRs Quimby asked her son.
"Yeah, I guess its just the sleep I lost last night being too excited for Christmas."
He lied just as smoothly as that, ate a bite or two of his food and headed up to his room. He threw on some dark blue skinnies and a black shirt with a few paint splatters on it. Hoping to amuse himself, he pulled out his phone and began playing some games on it. He played for a few minutes, but there was still that void. He pulled up his contacts and began scrolling through them to fins someone to text.
Angus Chestnut. He scrolled down.
Chyna Parks. Fletcher tapped the name and opened up a new text message box. He bit the inside of his cheek, searching for something to say to her. With nothing coming to his mind, he closed the box and kept scrolling.
Olive Doyle.
This name he paused on. He tapped on her name, and stared at the girl where her contact ID was. The long blonde hair and blue eyes made him even more glum. Hesitantly, he tapped on the new message box. The empty box came up, prompting him to type something in to send to her.
He had so much on his mind to say to her, but yet he couldn't bring himself to. Yet, he began tapping and, choosing his words carefully, he thought he had a pretty good text to send to her. He was just abot to push the send button when his phone vibrated, and this came up:
New Text Message:
Chyna Parks
"Well that's weird.." the boy mumbled to himself. He opened the text. It read:
'Hey Fletcher! Can't wait for you and your fam to come to our place 2nite!'
'Yeah,' he typed back. 'I can't wait either.' He lied.
Sighing, Fletcher plopped onto his bed, waiting for 7 o'clock, the time that he was going to Chyna's. The time that he should be eagerly waiting, not glumly anticipating.
Sorry it sucks eggs guys! Review please! And I will post the next chappy late 2nite or 2moro (u will still b in the CHRISTmas spirit then wont u? lol)