Belonging

C56: Messaging

     "Normally for Christmas we all go to grandads house." He tells me. "But we don't have to this year, if you don't want us to."

     "You can." I whisper, "I don't mind." I don't want to ruin their family tradition. And I don't have to be around them all the time, I'll be able to escape to my room. And my grandfather will be there to protect me against them all.

     "Well, Demian doesn't come. He goes to his mother's house." He tells me.

     "Oh." I whisper.

     "But the rest of us will be there." He tells me. "Do you like Christmas?"

     "Not really." I say.

     "Why not?" He asks.

     I shrug. "It's just like any other day."

     "Except there's decorations, presents and a really nice dinner." He says.

     "Grandad makes me nice dinners all the time." I respond.

     "Yeah, but there's no Christmas tree." He says.

     "There's some in the back garden."

     He smirks. "And how about the presents?"

"I already have everything I need." I say.

His eyes seem to soften. "Yeah, but there must be some things you want."

     I shake my head.

     He tilts his head a little bit.

"Well, I'm sure that after this Christmas you'll love it." He tells me.

     I don't like Christmas one bit. For the past few years, Christmas has just been a stark reminder of what I don't have. It's been nothing more than a day of watching foster siblings open presents whilst I sat there with nothing more than a chocolate bar or pyjamas because they "didn't expect me to still be here by Christmas". Christmas, to me, is a time of jealousy and envy toward the people I was living with. Maybe his Christmases have always been happy because he's rich, living in a luxurious house in a position that enables him to have anything he wants at the click of a finger. But he's an anomaly. The amount of people who sit on their high horses during Christmas while kids like me are suffering is ridiculous, which is why I don't plan on taking part in anything this Christmas time.

"Probably not." I say. "I hate Christmas. It's stupid."

"You can't hate Christmas."

"Well, I do." I say. "There's people who don't get presents at all, compared to people who get so many presents they don't even have the room for them. It's overindulgence."

"I guess you have a point." He says. "How did your Christmases used to go?"

"They were just like other days, except no shops were open." I say.

He smirks, but it fades after a moment. "So you didn't get any presents?"

I shake my head. "Or a tree, or a big nice dinner."

He frowns a little bit. "And that's why you don't want any of that now? Because you've never had it before?"

     "No, I don't want any of it now because I don't want to be enjoying my day when there are other kids in foster care that get nothing." I state softly, then add in a small voice: "It's not fair."

     He nods. "It's not."

The food comes then, and part of the awkwardness plaguing us dissipates following my timid speech. We talk a little bit, but mostly eat the food meaning it doesn't take long before we're both finished.