~✽~
10 Years Later, December 24th, 1955: Christmas Eve:
-Nicholas Fletcher-
*BEEP BEEP BEEP*
Stop.
*BEEP BEEP BEEP*
Ugh....
*BEEP BEEP BEEP*
That's it.
I rolled out of my bed like a sloth and slammed the stupid alarm clock with all my might. You can't blame me for being mad. That annoying thing had it coming. "Gosh, Nico. You always make such a fuss in the morning." said Diana, walking into my room, stifling a yawn."10-year olds shouldn't be prodding at their older brothers so early." I noted, making sure to stress on the "older" part.
"Happy Birthday to you too." she replied rather sarcastically.
Oh, that's right. Christmas Eve. Dad had said he found us during the war, about 10 years ago, when Di wasn't even a year old yet. He didn't know when we were actually born so he decided that would be our birthday.
"You too pipsqueak." I told her as I shuffled past, finally breaking out of my thoughts.
"Hey Nico?" she called out.
"Mhmm?" I mumbled lazily.
"Do you think mom remembers our birthday each year?" she asked.
I choked on my own saliva. Mom. I glanced at Diana. I don't really remember her, or our real dad that much. I just know that I loved them both very dearly. Sometimes I see these dreams-that sort of feel like fractions of the past, or flashbacks, and in them, two people that very much resemble Di and I. She doesn't know our actual birthdays aren't on Christmas Eve, but neither Dad, nor I, had the heart to tell her.
"I know I don't really know who she is, because I was a baby back then." she continued. "But I'm all grown up now, and I can't help but wonder what she was like."
My eyes had suddenly begun to sting.
"She was a wonderful person, and she loved us a lot. I'm sure she's out there right now wishing us a happy birthday. In fact, I bet she's super proud of how tall you've become, but you'll have to go a long way to be as big as your brother." I managed to say with a shaky voice, and a forced chuckle. I ruffled her short, messy ,brown hair, and walked out of the room, trying to get my head together.
-Diana Fletcher-
I heaved out a long, heavy, sigh as I watched him leave the room. Stupid Nico. He's always so distant. I wish I wasn't just a helpless baby back then, so I could actually do something to help, or at the very least- remember my own parents. I shook my head trying to dismiss my thoughts. "I'm a big girl now." I told myself. I made my way back to my room and decided to tame my short, but ragged mane that had made its home on my head. I pulled out the comb, dragging it through the mess I otherwise call my hair. Nico has really soft, brown hair, that messily falls in front of his bright, blue eyes, which have little flecks of green in them. I stared at my own pale blue eyes in the mirror. Dad- well, my second dad, said I was the spitting of my mother, save for the fact that she had long, fine, and beautiful tresses of blonde hair. I guess we must've gotten the rest from our actual dad.
I eventually gave up trying to make my hair actually look presentable, after what seemed like hours, when a heard a little "crack" sound from my comb. I heaved out another sigh. This would've been the fifth comb I broke in the last two months.
I padded down the stairs, eager to quieten my hungry stomach, which was desperately pleading with me to feed it. Upon reaching the kitchen, I discovered my brother lumped over a bowl of his favourite, colourful cereal. The new fad a bunch of people came up with.
"Such a child." I stated in distaste as I got the normal looking cornflakes I usually have.
"Says the 10-year-old whose life choices are as boring as her cereal." he retorted, without missing a single beat. I shot him a glare, and opened my mouth to comment on his line, when dad came bounding into the room with two, beautifully wrapped presents, as he screamed "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"
I instantly broke out into a grin, running to greet him with a hug as I abandoned my bowl of "boring" cereal. Even though it was just a day away from Christmas, he always made it a point to have separate celebrations for today. He was always trying to keep us happy, to fill in the hole our parents had left. I loved that about him. Despite being an ex-soldier, he has a heart as big as the ocean. He's lost a lot, and been through hell. He even had a family he lost during the war. But he would never, even for a second, complain that life was unfair around us.
I could tell even Nico respected him for that. Which is rare, considering his nasty attitude gets in the way of him respecting anyone. Dad set the two boxes on the table, beaming at us, with a smile that started from his dark, chocolate coloured eyes, and stretched all the way across his face. He still had his name badge from work on. It was a small, rectangular slab of metal, painted in white, with the name "Kenway Fletcher" etched across it. I found it sad that he had to work on Christmas eve, but they promised him a day off for tomorrow. Knowing that, helped a little.
He hung his arm around my brother's neck, and we both watched the monster tear into his gift box, laughing at his excitement. Nico pulled out a basketball, and a brand new pair of shoes, with tears welling up in his eyes. I swear, he gets emotional over this?
"No way! Dad, you remembered!" he exclaimed loudly.
I then recalled the time he lost his old basketball, and then came home, looking like an absolute wreck. Apparently it meant a lot to him, I carefully opened my box, to find a pretty, new dress, a photo frame with the three of us in it, and a...set of combs.
"I figured you'd need a new one kid." dad said, patting my head.
I rolled my eyes at him, mentally refusing to accept the fact that he was right. I took the frame, and stared at the photo in it. Dad had his arms around the both of us, who were standing on either side of him. It was snowing in the background. We were all bundled up in coats, beanies, mittens and other stuff to keep warm. I smiled at memory and held the frame tightly within my hands.
Its times like these, when I wonder if it's okay to be happy. Is it wrong to enjoy life when they might be out there suffering?
All I know is...me and Nico will never be satisfied until we find them.
-Nicholas Fletcher-
We spent the entire day playing games and mucking about, waiting for dad to finish his shift. Despite having a bad leg, he helped me get a little practice in with my new basketball, and as by tradition, we all spent the evening together baking our own cake from scratch. I wonder if we did this kinda stuff back then, with our first parents. Before the war, that claimed thousands of lives, did we get together as a family like this? I figured I'd just have to ask my parents when I see them.
I have faith they're both out there, doing perfectly fine, waiting for me and Di to come find them. I trudged back up our carpeted stairs, tired as they come, and I was already half asleep by the time I reached my bedroom. My mind automatically went into snooze-mode as soon as I hit the pillow, which made me forget that I left the door open.
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A/N: Honestly I hate it when the door's just left open. Especially when I'm not the one that opened it.
I smiled as I edited this.
Love,
IV.
