Christmas morning 1984. I stood hidden in the shadows where I knew no-one could see me. It was cold and snow was on the ground, but that didn’t bother me. The room was lit up, illuminated by the Xmas tree and all the other festive decorations I had put up three weeks before. Everything looked normal.
My kids, Sharon and Gary, were unwrapping their presents in their pajamas. Tears rolling down my cheeks, I watched with a faint smile while they opened the presents I had bought. Gary whooped with joy as he unwrapped his train set. Sharon put on the pretty pink dress, over her pajamas, and swirled around in it in front of the mirror, giggling with pleasure.
Robert was watching them and laughing. So was my sister Rachel. She was obviously not put out by the fact that my kids loved the presents I had bought for them. Why would she be? I doubted she would know what my children would want. She knew very little about them. She was only interested in Robert. She had been besotted by him. I was not surprised to find Robert had sought solace with her after I had gone.
I could not believe that it was only two weeks since I had been gone, and here was everyone looking like the complete family unit enjoying their Christmas that I had left virtually prepared for them all. Even my dog, Luke, was lying stretched out on the rug in front of the roaring fire in the inglenook fireplace, looking like there was nothing amiss. I felt like whistling to him. Would he look up and give the game away?
I moved closer and peered through the snow frosted windows. The table was laid with all my Christmas china. Rachel had made a good job of that at least. I wondered what her turkey dinner would turn out like. She had never been much of a cook, no need to be as, being single, she usually came to us for Christmas, high days and holidays.
As Rachel went out of the room I moved around to the kitchen window. Steam was coming from the saucepan on the hob. The Christmas pudding I had made, I thought to myself. It was too early for the vegetables to be on.
Rachel pulled the turkey from the oven, placed it on the trivet on the work surface and unwrapped the foil. It was looking good, I thought, as I watched her basting it and putting it back in the oven. No-one seems to be missing me at all, I thought sadly. But in a way I was pleased that they were all getting on with their lives.
Just then, Robert came into the kitchen and I watched with horror as he took Rachel in his arms and kissed her. That was not a brotherly / sisterly kiss. I wished I hadn’t witnessed that.
I decided it was time for me to move on. The cancer was over, my life was over, the funeral was over, and everyone looked like they had already come to terms with it.
Creative writing homework January 2016.