A Christmas card lies thrown on a table. There are only four people in the picture; a skinny boy with curled dark brown hair, a fat boy with blond hair, a woman who stands between the two and a man with his hand resting on the blond's shoulder.

Aura flicked through the envelopes she had collected earlier. Her roommate, though they hated each other, glanced up from the chair she was sitting on. "Did you get anything from home?" The girl knew a small amount about how Aura's family life had been. She knew it was hard, but nothing more. "A card or anything?"

As the girl said the words, a selection of handwriting drew Aura's attention immediately. It was her mother's. Aura pulled the envelope out and carefully opened it, taking care not to rip the contents. The family looked how they normally did; only looking older. There was no empty space for where she should have been. It was as though she wasn't there. Like she had never been there.

The card flew through the air, torn into two pieces with a certain person torn out for special treatment, and landed on the table. "Nothing." Without another word, Aura stormed out of the room. Her roommate glanced at the ripped card but said nothing.

'Merry Christmas'. It said. 'From the Holmes family'.

No mention on the fact that Aura wasn't pictured.

Sherlock leaned against the staircase. "Why are we taking a picture? Aura isn't here."

Mother gestured for him to move closer. "She isn't coming. We're taking the picture now."

"Just come over." Mycroft sighed, adjusting his tie. The man looked like he was meant to be in a suit. "Let's get this over with."

"Where's Aura? Why didn't she come?" Sherlock didn't move.

"She said something about there being too much work. Just come over." With a sigh, Sherlock pushed himself from the staircase and shuffled over.

It was the year of Aura's first year at University. Sherlock hadn't seen her since the last Christmas, when she sat in her room and ripped papers to shreds. She hadn't emerged the entire time he was home. But that time Sherlock hoped she would be there so he could talk to her. But she wasn't.

And he had the strange feeling he wouldn't see her again in a very long time.

A/N: Again, so sorry for the large length of time between memories. And, again, sorry that this is not one of the memories requested; I am working on them, but I am planning on rewriting them.

There's a survey on my profile I'd like some people to answer. It's related to this story so, please, respond.

Ages:

Mycroft: 24

Sherlock: 20

Aura: 17