Merry Christmas, everyone! :D

I know, I know, I haven't been posting stuff for quite awhile, and to all who follow my stuff (if there are even any), I'm sorry for the wait. I just well, haven't been able to write much. Why? Well, let's just say I've been too happy to pen emo. :X

Written on Christmas morning from about midnight to 1am plus, just after getting home from a Christmas Eve party.

Somehow, I think I'm going to get killed/yelled at/scolded by someone for writing this. But it's a risk I don't mind taking, heh.

Anyways, read, review, and as always, enjoy. Here's to hoping that you all got better presents than I did.

I awake to find myself sprawled on the wooden floor of my house, surrounded by bits and pieces of torn wrapping paper, a testament to the frenzied unwrapping of presents hours before. It's Christmas morning, I know, and yet, the pouring rain outside makes it out to be nothing more than a dull, miserable day in the normally sunlit town of Henesys.

The gifts lie scattered haphazardly around, their positions nothing more than proof of how little they mean to me, despite the knowedge of how much effort it must have taken to aquire them.

An exclusive safety charm, its ancient markings radiating power, rests near the back wall: a place definitely not befitting such a rare item. Across the room, a Gachapon ticket leans against a table leg, the wrong way up: no way to treat a piece of plastic that could change your life if you got lucky.

I know: Christmas is about the spirit of giving rather than receiving, but how can I not feel hurt, like I'm being tossed aside as easily as those gifts, simply because I know that their thoughts weren't into their gestures, simply knowing that none knew me well enough to comprehend what I truly wanted?

But then, even if they did, my wish was impossible, completely out of the question.

Material things such as that godly scrolled Metus which caught my eye while I had been window shopping in the Free Market could be bought down after a mere round of bargaining, but feelings could not be forced; she was the unattainable.

All my hints, my not-too-subtle advances: she ignored them all, choosing instead to take interest in him. He was my friend, I thought, my closest, but it felt like he was betraying me and my choice of confidante.

He said he understood my pain, the hurt of her constant rejection; he was the only one who did. Nevertheless, he responded to her with equal enthusiasm, growing closer to her with each day, pulling her further away from me, even more that she already was.

So close, yet so far: while we were training partners, her skills necessary for me to survive in the dangerous Aqua Road Dungeons, she kept her distance; despite being right next to me, healing my wounds when I needed it, she was miles away, keeping me out of her world.

Sure, the magical Christmas town of Happyville was back to bring festive joy to everyone, but I turned down the invitation to pay it a visit with them, not wanting to be a damper with my obvious dislike. Seeing everyone laughing and smiling, people together with their special someones, I just couldn't stand it. It all seemed to be constantly rubbing into my face the fact that I've been single for all the years of my sad existence; like the world is doing nothing but laughing at my sorry state, smiling at my misfortune.

Running my hands through my disheveled hair, I clench both tightly into fists, tugging hard, somehow hoping that that all my troubles could be tugged away just like that. But I know, that would be more or less equal to the amount of effort it would take to yank all my hair off; it was downright unachievable.

Then it hits me, as clearly as I know how an arrow rain works: a flood of powerful arrows coming towards you all at once, piercing you relentlessly as it strikes.

I've never been so alone in this world.

-cough- seems familiar, Chief? -cough-

-runs off and hides after confiscating his Linkin Park album-

Ah, somewhat of a private joke here, so don't worry if you catch no ball. Oh, and while you're pondering over the sheer lameness of it, why not go over to chapter 10 of the FF authors survivor fic and try and find another one of our private jokes? :D

And people, the cookie jar's been left unused for too long, won't you agree? Teehee. (: