On the first day of Christmas, Zara Fischer's 'true love' gave to her... a breakup.
The day before seventeen-year-old Zara takes off for the Christmas holidays to the other side of the world--cold, dreary London--her boyfriend of two months dumps he...
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Saturday: December 4th, 2015
The house was in an uproar when I got up on Saturday morning. Hunter was screaming bloody murder and Amelia was squealing at Clare and my dad to play ponies with her. The pair of adults were frantic, unsure who to give their attention to.
"Everything okay?" I asked as I walked into the living room.
"Hunter has a fever and won't settle," dad explained. "We're trying to put the nappy bag together so that we can take him to the doctor's but Amelia has gone and hidden the stroller cover and won't stop changing the topic to her ponies whenever we ask where she put it."
Great... so I will be alone again.
"I did not!" the four-year-old huffed. "I did not do anything." Her arms grumpily crossed over her chest. Then she turned to me. "Tell them Zawa. I didn't do anything."
Crouching down to her height, I replied, "I believe you. But do you maybe know where they put it last?"
Grinning at me for trusting her, she bobbed her head up and down then put her tiny hand in mine, pulling me to the cupboard under the stairway. Prying open the door, she moved a couple of boxes out of the way and dragged out the cover.
As her back was turned, my eyes narrowed at her knowledge of the very specific whereabouts. Nonetheless, I grabbed the cover from the kid and headed back to dad and Clare, handing it over to them.
"Thanks, poppet," dad said. Back straightening, he glanced at me, alarmed. "Sorry, that slipped."
Heaving a sigh, I said, "You get five poppets a day. No more though."
Dad smiled at me, then turned his attention to the little girl still gripping onto my hand. "Now little Miss, you need to get ready."
"No. I don't want to go. I want to stay here with my ponies."
"Amelia. This is no time for your tantrums. Your brother is sick."
"No!" she screamed in an ear-splitting tone, stomping her foot repeatedly.
Crouching down to her height once more, I turned Amelia to face me. "You could bring your ponies." Because apparently I was the only one in this house she wanted to listen to right now.
The tears and snot were starting to make their way down her face now. "I don't want to go, Zawa."
"But Hunter really needs to see a doctor. You want him to get better, don't you?"
She shook her head. "I liked it when he wasn't around."
"Amelia!" Clare and my dad scolded at the same time.
I did my best to suppress my smirk, a little bit ashamed that I shared similar sentiments with a four-year-old. Nonetheless, as much as I wished Hunter never came into the picture, he was here now. And I didn't want him to suffer or die just because I don't like him. Technically the baby did nothing wrong.
