Christmas #4 -Kim Wilson (4)

{ This is super depressing, sorry. PROMPT: Write a scene that takes place after a tragedy. Don't mention the tragedy.}

     The tree was absolutely beautiful. It was the same one you begged to be picked. But now it was just a glowing reminder of you and how you weren't coming home. After three Christmases, it began to grow unbearable. Sure, my parents helped me put up my Christmas tree, but it wasn't and will never be the same without you.
     I smile to myself when I see an old, rusty ornament with your name on it. But the smile plastered on my face is a lie. Seeing your name fading on that piece of simple plastic punctures something inside me, surrounding me with a weakness, a lingering feeling of hopelessness.
     Christmas is supposed to be cheerful, charging, and giving. I don't know how to be cheerful when the root of my happiness is gone and never coming back. I'll never see your warm smile or hear your heartfelt laugh. I don't know how to care when the only thing I've cared for is gone. You're gone and you're not coming back, and I don't know if it will ever feel real.
     I don't know how to give when all I can think about is giving you the words I think about every single day. No matter how hard I try, I don't know how to move on.
     Three Christmases have past and putting up this tree lowers my spirit rather than raises it. Seeing your lovely decorations help me realize the fact you're gone and you're never coming back. These decorations screamed your personality, wherever I looked. But I pray that next Christmas, these decorations give me hope, that even after you're long gone, that there's still a spark of reassurance. I pray that these ornaments will symbolize reassurance that I will be okay, even if I never see you again.