"Love knows no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at it's destination, full of hope."
~maya angelou
Dear Angel,
I'm snowed in. I've decided to do a christmas tree this year, so that's what I'm doing right now. I've stopped for a break, and I and I decided to write this. I'm sitting curled in my window seat, watching the snow fall. There's a glass of eggnog next to me, and Christmas music is playing lightly in the background.
The tree is brightly lit up with sparkling white lights, and ribbon is wrapped around the tree as well.
When I was younger, my whole world used to revolve around being good, just so Santa would come and give me presents. But when I was ten, still young enough to believe, my stepfather had enough of my yapping, I guess. He pushed me up against a wall, screaming in my face that Santa wasn't real, and that he never would be. He hit me across the face, before sending me up to my room for the rest of the day.
That was the last time I ever spoke of Santa as well as the last time I ever expected to get presents under the tree. You see, once my mother died, my legal guardian was my stepfather, because my real father lost custody in the court battle. That bastard was the death of me.
All I want for Christmas, Angel, is to have a normal, happy life.
As always,
Ash
~
changing where they live to nyc, ny.