I never really considered christmas to be important. With christmas always came fights. Fights with violence. Without violence. Mike and I usually sat in the corner trying to act like good brother and sisters for a day, while Mom fought. With herself, with us, with the lights, with the plates...with dad. And that's when it got scary. To everybody, christmas was the day of perfect. The day that everything went perfectly and smoothly. The cliche christmas. Now whenever I think of christmas, I think about the day. The dreaded day 2 years ago. The day that he left. And took my brother. My best friend, my confidant. My everything. My Mike.
Christmas were lonely times. My parents were never home, so I ended up decorating the house myself. It was the same thing every year. A 5 foot green fake christmas tree and little Nutcracker ornaments. The first christmas I spent with Kaitlyn, she gave me a friendship bracelet. It was a simple one. A blue little thread double wrapped around my wrist with a small metal palm tree hanging off of it. She had the exact same one on her wrist, also. When she gave it to me, she told me that it would always be on if each other were safe. The night she disappeared, it fell off. My beautiful palm tree. On the floor of my bathroom. Next to my unopened box of razors. My very first box.