What Do You Want for Christmas?

The tree was up and looked as if a decoration bomb had exploded on it. The house decorated by two insane 16 year olds and a hyper four year old. Tinsel hung from the rafters and more fairy lights than could ever be considered normal for a house this size adorned every available surface. But despite the obvious Christmas athmosphere, it didn't feel like Christmas. It hadn't really for years, not since mam. The mood would however, occasionally strike me, but soon enough it would leave.

Watching Callie made me happy, seeing her wake every morning and run downstairs to open the next door on the cheap advent calender dad had bought her, it reminded me of myself as a child, doing all that stuff with mam and dad beside me. Together Callie and I counted down the days. There was three left. Just three.

Sean and I were sprawled awkwardly on the couch, she was half on top of me. Her mid lenght dark brown hair was everywhere, up my nose, in my mouth, everywhere. But I didn't complain.

We sat almost silently for hours. Dad had gone Christmas shopping, although I didn't see how he could shop, we were as good as broke. And Callie was sleeping in our grans house that night. We didn't do much, didn't even say much, just watched the blinking lights go on and off. We made up silly games revolving around which light show would come on next when you put in on the "random" setting.

"Stell, can I ask you something?" Sean asked lifting herself up from her position and scooting over on the couch.

"Yeah, course you can love." I said to her, not moving from my own position. I was far too comfy, and my butt had fallen asleep a few hours previously.

"What do you want for Christmas?" she asked silently, as if it were the most dangerous question in the world. Although, it almost was in ways.

"What do you mean?" I asked, scooting up a little, my eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion.

"What do you want for Christmas?" she asked again, hardly louder than before. She looked almost embarressed to ask, I couldn't understand why.

"Like, what do I want?" I asked and paused briefly, "Or what do I think I'll get?" I added slowly.

"What do you want?" she said, and suddenly I understood why she looked so ill at ease, there would only ever be one answer to that question.

"Do you really need to ask?" I murmured to her, sounding more mean than I had intended. "You know what I want, I want my mam back." I could feel tears threatening to spill over just at the mention. "I want to not have to worry about money any more, not have to take care of the four year old sister my mother had abandoned at age one. I want my dad back. I want to be eleven again."

"I got you this for Christmas," she muttered to me, "I was going to wait to give you it, but I think you need it now Stell." Sean stood up and crossed the room, grabbing the small bag she carried everywhere with her, it was covered in patches and badges. She rummaged around in it, and took out a small pakage. Wrapped shoddily in blue paper with candy canes and christmas trees, the thing looked vaugely square in shape. She skipped back over and sat next to me again.

"I know how bummed out you've been about your mam the past while. And I know that you dont really have any pictures of her," she said, "so, I may have bugged some of your aunts and stuff, and I got you these." She handed the package to me, smiling as she did. Her face changed color in the rapidly blinking lights, but the look of joy on her face was amazing. Sean was so innocent really, despite all the things she would say and do to suggest otherwise.

I unwrapped the thing quickly, I had never been the type to open things slowly and save the paper. There really wasnt any point considering the was Sean wrapped things. It was three different pieces of paper stuck together and then wrapped around a small photo album. I opened it slowly, on the inside cover it said;

Stella,
I love you, and Merry Christmas
Love Seanie.

"Seanie, you didn't have to get me anything." I murmured, "Definatly not this," I gasped as I saw the pictures inside, and the first tear spilled over and down my face.

Pictures, pages and pages of different pictures of my mam. From when she was born, there was a picture of one of her ultrasounds. All the way up to when she was pregnant with Callie. By the time I finished reading tears were spilling down my face and I was sobbing. "Seanie," I whispered, "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas Stella honey." she said leaning foreward and hugging my tight. "And happy new year."

"And happy new year." I agreed.