Christmas card

I thought I would write a short story based on Christmas seeing as it's that time of year

A winter hue hung below the skyline of Highworth town as Christmas morning broke through the thick snow clouds. Frosted flakes flittered to the ground causing rooftops to look as if someone had dusted them with icing sugar. A snowy blanket had wrapped itself around the streets and as silence rung through the air the girl sat there alone.

She was huddled up in a shop doorway: bundled in coats and scarves. Her frost bitten fingers lay in flea bitten gloves; the wool had unraveled at the fingertips over time and the cold bit hard into her skin. Her hood was pulled tightly around her face to hide the identity she so closely guarded. A few strands of hair had snuck their way out and flew free in the winter gale, whipping their ends in a swirling storm around her eyes. Those eyes were filled with so many painful memories below their murky blue surface: the harsh words of her mother, the searing pain of a slap and the echo of her own tortured screams. The coats she'd bundled on hid more of her dark story. purple scars in the shape of clenched fingertips branded into her left upper arm and a tattooing of circles like that of cigarette ends covered her back. The only Christmas card she'd received was from the police officer who tried to talk to her yesterday; it didn't wish her merry Christmas, just gave her the number she was too afraid to call.

The girl reached over to stoke the small dog that sat beside her. Running her fingers through its scraggly fur a tear trickled down her wind flushed cheek. She longed for that perfect Christmas everyone talked about: ripping open patterned paper to reveal assorted gifts, sitting around the fire sipping hot coco, but most of all the Christmas dinner. She could almost taste the tantalizingly juicy hunks of turkey soaked in lashings of home made gravy. Roast potatoes sitting on the plate; cooked perfectly so that the crispy golden skin peeled back to reveal a fluffy potato center. Bread sauce spilling over the side of the dish and peas not pills and carrots and little pigs in blankets to accompany.

The cold shiver that traveled down her spine jerked her back into reality. She scanned her eyes around the empty streets until childish laughter caught her attention; a little girl and a boy -aged about seven and five- rushed around their front garden. Squeals and cheers filled the air as they launched snowballs at each other- filled with glee whether they hit their target or not. A father emerged in the doorway and chuckled as he beckoned them inside; the children grinned- little rosy patched glowing on their cheeks- and scampered into the door. Silence.

The girl clenched her hands into icy fists in a failed attempt to keep them warm. Wiggling numb fingers and stomping numb toes she sighed. She bent down and scraped together a pile of snow, roughly sculpting it into a sphere before miserably tossing the ball into the street. The sound of scrambling paws and yapping caught her attention as her dog launched itself playfully at the snowball, his mouth wide open and waiting expectantly for the ball- which by now had splurged into the snow covered street. 

The girl laughed and for a second she forgot about all the bad as a sparkle crept into each eye. She collected a bundle of snow and patted it down into an orb. The girl chucked the snowball towards her dog as he threw himself upwards and forwards towards the flying ball. Splat: the snowball exploded into the little dogs face so that tiny pieces of shimmering snow mixed in with his fur. The dog stood up and shook off the icy decoration, splaying a ploom of snow over the girl. She scrunched up her face laughing as snow shot into her eyes. The girl picked up the dog and wrapped him up in her arms. She looked out at the auburn skyline; red dripped into orange, painting the perfect backdrop for the glowing orb of the sun. The girl knew the tiny pinch of magic Christmas bought would pass and the hardship of life on the streets would return. She knew the memories would taunt her as each day passed and she new the chances were she would only just scrape by and for how long she did not know but for that second she was happy.

She pulled down her hood to reveal her hollowed cheekbones and the looming shadows that haunted her eyes. The heroin had taken its toll but at least it blanked out some of the pain. Winter has gnawed its fangs into her chapped lips and her skin bore no colour. She pulled the dog closer and whispered with smiling lips into its mottled ear "merry Christmas". Those were the final words she spoke before she let death stroke his knife across her throat, still clutching her only Christmas card.