For most children, Christmas is the most anticipated time of the year. In turn, by the middle of February most will have already have forgotten what they received during the holidays not even two months before. Not Edward *last name,* he would never forget. He wouldn’t feel the warm and tingly feeling children get during the last few weeks before the 25th of December every again either. The Christmas in the thirteenth year of Edward’s life would be remembered forever. In every window. Every door. In every shadow between beams of light and in every smile of a stranger. In the voices of darkness and in the laughter of the wind. They all reminded him of that Christmas. And the nightmares brought tears to his eyes every time.
It proceeded like the past thirteen Christmases that Edward had lived through - though he only began to remember them from the sixth one on. A week previous the family had picked out at tree and trimmed it. Presents had been bought, hidden from Children, wrapped, then placed under the tree. Hot apple cider and egg nog had been made -some especially for his father: “spiced” with rum. There were Christmas sweaters, dozens of Christmas cards sent to family and friends, and bedtimes had even been temporarily lifted from Edward, his older sister Terra, and even his eight year old brother Jeremiah (who refused to go by Jeremiah and was addressed as Jeremy instead). Though every retail store was thwarted at calling it Christmas due to political correctness -and in turn it was just “happy holidays”- it was still Christmas in the *last name* home.
The days leading up to that magic morning had been torture from both child and parent alike, though in very opposite ways. The Pete and Susan *late name* spent weeks shopping for the perfect gifts for each of their three children who all had completely opposite personalities and taste in toys. Terra, who was sixteen and embarrassed by almost everything her parents did, was into music and clothing and was almost impossible to shop for. “It’s that damn teen angst,” Peter told his wife over and over again. Jeremy, who was autistic, was almost too easy to shop for. Like most children with autism, he liked things that made noise or sang songs: talking books, musical toys, and especially toy cars with -almost- authentic sounding engines. Pete and Susan had agreed it would be best not to get anything too obnoxious for Jeremiah this year after making that very mistake the year before.
Then there was Edward. He was the strangest out of the three children. He was exceedingly smart for his age and his teachers said they thought he was smarter than most of the juniors at the highschool he had recently started attending. He was so quiet that some nights his parents would fear that he had snuck out his window while doing homework. Most of all Edward *last name* the highest level of unexcitement his parents had ever seen. Though he always appreciate the things they did for him and the gifts they bought him, but it was hard for him to show it. They always felt they did wrong with Edward, though he always assured them that this was not true.
Edward was easy, yet hard to shop for. He loved books and they were the only thing he ever asked for. Horror, science-fiction, and mystery were his favorites, but he read the occasional fantasy novel too. He read very fast for his age and even his mother, who had taken speed reading classes in college, envied him for it. It was simple and challenging to shop for Edward because he already had collected so many books that his parents actually had to catalog them to keep from buying duplicates.
This year though, his father had found him something that he wouldn’t even be able to see, telepathy or not. Pete *last name* was proud of his find, even if his wife was in total disapproval. Pete had been looking for an old book Edward had asked for in particular this year when he wandered across a shop he’d never seen before on a shady side of town. The lighting in the shop was dim and Pete wasn’t sure that the owner of the shop wasn’t a witch doctor of some sort. He’d been looking at a shelf of old used books when he’d seen it. Across the store, there in the window it sat with a light shining through it. A jar. Not just a jar, but a jar filled with formaldehyde to keep the perfectly intact human hand inside of it from decaying. At least it looked like one, though Pete knew it had to be a gag hand. No one would actually sell something, -hell!- have something, like that he had thought. He figured, why not? and had grabbed it, forgetting about the book. He knew Eddy would like it, even if the mother of his son protested for days.
“For one,” she had told him, “it freaks me out and I’m sure it’ll do the same to him.” Susan was waving her arms even more than she usually did when she spoke and at this her husband laughed. She glared at him and said “don’t even start with that Peter *last name*!” This only caused him to smiled more. “And, as I was saying, it’ll freak him out. Secondly, even if it’s fake, it doesn’t look sanitary.”
“Come on hun.” Her husband pleaded. “He’s fourteen. I had tons of stuff like this -nothing as cool as this, or as realistic- when I was his age. I turned out just fine, thank you.”
Susan rolled her eyes at him. “That’s debatable. But if you think it’s ok, then fine, let him have the hand.” She shuddered even at addressing it as such.
“Thanks babe!” Pete told her. “You’re the best. He’ll love it, you’ll see.”
With that settled, they began to wrap the gifts for all three children in preparation of the big morning only four days away.
* * *
It was Christmas morning. Around 8:00 while Edward and Terra were just waking and heading down stairs, Jeremiah was sprinting around the house doing anything that would raise his parents. He knocked over pans, he slammed doors, and he screamed. Soon enough this worked and Pete and Susan came into the living room to find all three of their children sitting neatly on the couch waiting for gifts to be handed to them.
“Who wants to go first?” Pete asked, knowing that opening the morning with ‘Merry Christmas’ wouldn’t have sped up the process enough for the kids.
“Actually dad,” Terra told him, “we were hoping you and mom would open yours first.”
“Yeah,” Edward added with a smile, “we worked hard this year.”
“Well, of course we will, as long as you want us to.” Their mother said as Edward brought her a present. While she was opening hers, Terra brought her father’s to him as well.
The children’s mother found that the large box her gift was wrapped in was only fluff and the real present lay inside. When she found in at the bottom she put a hand over her mouth, looked at her kids then her husband, and her eyes began to tear up. Her gift was tickets to Mary Poppins, her favorite Broadway play.
“How did you kids...” their mother began, but was lost by her love for her children.
“We knew you liked that one.” Edward said.
“And we may have had a little help from dad.” Terra told her and expected Jeremy to chime in, but he was off shaking boxes and looking for his own to open. Two out of three ain’t bad, so Meat-loaf would say.
Next Pete was up and Edward brought him his box next. When he opened the package his mouth dropped and he was unable to speak right away. He lifted out the old record -which was actually in phenomenal condition- and almost drooled over it. “How did you kids find this?” He asked. “I’ve been trying to find it since I was twenty years old.”
“Well, like mom’s, we had a little help with your’s, too.” Terra explained.
“It wasn’t easy to find,” Susan told him, “but the idea was all theirs from the start.” And their father’s eyes glowed with total admiration and love for his children.
After the shock and awe of the parents presents, each child was handed a stack of four boxes, except Edward who only received three. Terra got two pairs of shoes, several CDs -some of which she already had, but wasn’t going to ruin her parent’s happiness- and a bed sheet set. She was thrilled. Jeremiah got a toy fire truck, a toy police car set, a small CD/cassette player with several -very old- tapes to help him sleep, and stuffed dog. He hugged the dog to himself and wouldn’t let it go for the world for the next three days. Edward opened his to find: books, books, and one box that held a very rare book he had been wanting for a long time. That’s why I only got three boxes he thought, this must have cost a lot. He got up to thank his parents when his father stood up first.
“Now, Eddy,” his father said, “I know you wanted that book...but I found something I thought you might like. Your mother seems to think it will creep you out,” she shot him a nasty look from the couch, he paid no mind to this, “but I think you might like it.”
His father brought out a jar shaped present wrapped in black paper. Edward took it and slowly unwrapped it. It was heavier than the books, be he could feel that it was delicate. Like glass or hard plastic. Piece by piece he removed the paper, but it almost seemed to stay hidden until the last piece was removed. He held it up to the sun light from the window and gasped. At the same time, all three children screamed something different at the sight of the severed hand floating in the jar.
“Eww!” Terra.
“Gross!” Jeremiah.
“Cool!” Edward, who’s was the loudest by far, cheered. “Thanks dad!” He practically yelled, then added, “Mom, how would this creep me out? It’s amazing! I’m going to put it on my dresser!”
Edward’s father smiled a triumphant smile towards his wife who was ecstatic with their son’s newly found enthusiasm. It was the first and last exciting Christmas Edward would ever have.
* * *
Edward sat in his room and finished the homework he had received to do over Christmas break, but he glanced toward the window every minute or so to make sure his new present was real. He’d had it for about five hours and already it had become his most prized possession. He gladly would have traded every one of his sacred books for this one single item. While looking at the hand in the jar, the bustle of his family, including Jeremiah’s sirens going non-stop, was nothing but a distant droning of wind.
That night, as he read before going to sleep, lay on his bed with the jar on the night stand right beside his head. Edward was in the most blissful state he’d ever been in. His parents watched this from the crack in his door knowing that between the book he was reading and his glorious new jar -now with exclusive severed hand!- all his attention was spent.
“I’ve never seen him that happy Pete.” She told her husband in adoration. “I’m so proud of you...even if that thing creeps me out.”
“Thanks hun.” He told her. “I’m just glad to see Ed’s finally showing so much happiness all at once.”
“Yeah, so am I.” She paused, then added: “Hey, you don’t...” She hesitated on the question a second, “you don’t think that’s a real hand, do you?”
“Nah,” Pete assured her, “I’ve seen fake hands more real than that in gag shops before. Don’t worry.”
Pete kissed his wife on the forehead and then pulled her off towards their bedroom with a youthful smile on his face. It was going to be a great Christmas all around -morning, noon, and night- for the *last name* parents. As she was being pulled down the hall, Susan saw the light in the crack of her son’s door go out. She silently thanked God that her son was so happy. She’d never wanted anything more than to see the boy’s face light up as it had been all day. Later she would thank her husband again in less verbal ways.
As his parents were following the hallway towards their bedroom, Edward stared at the hand in the jar on his night stand. Now, with the red light of his clock, the hand had a haunting reddish color to it. It was the coolest thing Edward had ever seen. Even more, it made him feel good to be around it.
* * *
When Edward woke up a new wave of excitement washed over him. It had snowed over the course of the night. It had snowed here and there over the past several weeks, and it had been a “white Christmas” but this was different. This time it had snowed a good six to eight inches -by the look of it- which meant one thing. Snowball fight. From his window he could already see the neighborhood kids gathered outside, making forts and stocking their arsenals. He threw on his snow-wear, grabbed his jar, and bolted downstairs.
He set the jar on the table while he grabbed a bowl for his cereal. His mother was already in the kitchen reading the paper. She looked up at the jar on her clean kitchen table, gave him a glare, then said “Eddy, I know you love that jar...but please get it off of my kitchen table.”
“Sorry mom.” He said and grabbed the jar off the table. “Come to think of it, I’m not that hungry anyway.” And he walked out of the kitchen -leaving the bowl he’d just picked up behind- toward the foyer. As he left the room he could hear his mother sigh then return to her paper. Food wasn’t important right now, the snow on the ground was.
Edward sat on the bench in the foyer and put on his boots and dug his gloves and coat out of the closet. Once situated, Edward went outside, holding his far to his chest like a girl with a grotesque doll. As soon as he turned around from closing the door he was hit in the stomach with a snowball. Tommy Dolton had been waiting outside Edward’s house. Edward hated Tommy. Tommy hated Edward.
“Tommy!” He shrieked. “I just came outside!”
“Haha!” Tommy laughed. “You should see the look on your face! You look like ya just pissed your pants!” Tommy was two years older than Edward and always picked on him.
“At least let me make a fort or something first, geez!”
“And miss the look you just had,” Tommy jeered, “Never!”
Edward’s arms squeezed the jar even harder. Tommy saw Edward’s face scrunch up as he stared at him.
“What’s wrong Eddy? You’re not going to cry over a little snowball are you?” Tommy always had something mean to say to Edward. “Go ahead and cry, I won’t tell,” he said loud enough that several kids stopped what they were doing and looked at the squabble.
Now Edward was holding the jar so hard that he thought it may shatter beneath the pressure, but it didn’t. Edward just stared at Tommy and tried his hardest not to cry. He wanted something bad to happen to Tommy, something real bad. He just started at him and finally started to bare his teeth in an almost dog like way. He could feel the jar growing warmer as he squeezed it, and not from him. It was growing warm from inside the jar. Then Edward felt a wave of possession wash over him.
“What’s wrong Eddy?” Tommy ask again. “Are you going to try to beat me u-“ Tommy was cut off from his new taunt at the sound of a loud pop. It sounded almost like a large water balloon being dropped from a second story window. Edward’s squinted into a glare towards Tommy and a smirk crossed his lips as the children watching the conflict all screamed at the top of their lungs. Tommy looked down the were the pop had come from: his mid-section.
Tommy screamed.
As he screamed, Tommy stared at the gaping hole that had just appeared in his stomach. Blood was pumping out of the wound and it made the snow below him look like someone had spilled a huge cherry slushy. He saw one of his intestines hanging out of the hole and he grabbed at it, trying to keep everything inside of him, well, inside of him. His hands were being covered in his own blood and finally his knees gave out and he dropped to the ground. Edward chuckled at the way you could see the red snow through Tommy’s body as he lay face down on the ground. Tommy twitched once. Twice. A third. Then he was still.
Now he won’t bother you every again Edward a voice -not quite- in Edward’s head told him.
A second later Pete *last name* ran out the front down to see what the screaming was about and almost knocked Edward down when he ran into him. “Oh my God!” His father screamed at the sight of the blood covered bully on the sidewalk.
Edward was knocked from his trance and saw Tommy Dolton lying on the ground, a hole the size of a bowling ball through his mid-section. The look in Edward’s eyes turned to horror at the realization of what had just happened, and his knees too, gave out. His arms also dropped the jar. It his the ground before Edward did. He fell forward from his knees and his head slapped the porch right beside the jar. He could see that it hadn’t even been cracked by the fall. His head on the other hand, it was bleeding from the impact. Before fully passing out, Edward could hear his father yelling inside for his wife to call 911. Then everything in Edward’s world went black.
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