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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/215303-Crystals-In-The-Moonlight
Rated: 13+ · Book · Gothic · #593396
My completed stories
#215303 added November 15, 2007 at 6:31pm
Restrictions: None
Crystals In The Moonlight
Christmas night from two completely different point of views.


The air was cold as she ignored the pain. The pain haunted her as it always did during the winter. The pain of being unwanted, unloved, unaccepted. The pain of winter.

He knelt beside the large Christmas tree and counted his gifts. There was a few less than last year, and he felt his eyes tear up. As his parents promised greater gifts, bigger gifts, more gifts, he wept and felt sorry for himself. After all, one hundred and eighty three gifts was not two hundred, now was it?

She bent and scooped up the snow and studied the purity of it, studied the unblemished blinding white color twinkling with crystals in the moonlight. She longed to hold it close, to hold its purity forever. But the frozen rain grew too cold in her bare hands and she dropped it reluctantly to the ground.

He cursed the snow. He blamed his parents for allowing the snow to ruin his perfect day. Though not completely perfect. His mother had bought him sweaters and boardgames and the sugared fruit lay heavily in his stomach. As he lay back upon his king size feather bed he cursed the snow and the holiday season with it.

She entered the empty shed where she slept each night and knelt beside her pile of straw. She bowed her head and prayed for God to bless the little orphins and thanked Him for continuing to watch over her. As she pulled the tattered blanket over her small form, she shivered, then smiled as she dreamt of a Christmas long ago, when Jesus was born and hope was created. Hope for people like her, hope for everyone.

He tossed the pillow at the maid and called her ungrateful, threatened to throw her out to the cold and then laughed as she fled the room near tears. He opened the box of chocolates he had stolen from the neighbors mailbox and shoved one in his mouth. He chewed and swallowed and decided that tomorrow he would make his mother take him shopping for more gifts. December 26th is the best day to shop, after all. He closed his eyes and dreamed the dreams of greed, the dreams he was used to.

She reached out and touched the branch of a Christmas Tree in the lot on the corner which was loading up the leftovers and closing up shop. The owner eyed her warily but said nothing. To have a beautiful tree in a warm home with lovely decorations and a present just for her. She shut her eyes and sighed. As she caressed the needles, she imagined herself in a home with a mother and father and a doll sitting underneath the boughs. She imagined a fire and could actually smell the turkey and pies. She slowly opened her eyes and saw only the tree and the harsh streetlight glaring down upon it. She released the tree and walked down the street alone.

He sat upon his cushions and thought of pranks and snowballs. If he could only go outside to pummel the little girls with large balls of cold snow. He growled low in his throat as the maid fluffed his pillows and spooned soup down his throat. Of all the days to be sick. There would be other days, though. Oh yes, there would definately be other days. Angerily he spit out the soup into the maids face and laughed as she sputtered and tried not to cry.

She stood outside the large courthouse on fifth and watched the homeles huddle together for warmth. She could use warmth this night but she dared not approach the strangers. Though most were kind, few were not. With a heavy heart, she headed in the direction of her straw bed and the little shed she called home.

He took hold of his mothers new year gown and tore it in half, using a knife to start the rip. He filled his fathers shoes with 'yellow' snow and dipped his bow tie in bleach. He ran about screaming and shouting as they discovered his handy work. They finally stayed home. He was not about to spend new years eve alone. Not him.

She tripped on a stone and fell. In a moment she was up again but someone was holding her. Strong arms lifted her to her feet and dusted off her tattered clothing. She didn't look up at the person, she wished she could disappear.

"Here now, doesn't that feel better?" Said a sweet voice that brought tears to the little girls eyes.

"Yes, thank you." She said as she turned to go.

"I'm sorry, but I followed you last week. I saw you outside the bakery and followed you. I hope you don't mind." The woman said.

"Why should I mind?" The little girl asked softly, eyes on the ground.

"I have been looking for you ever since, little one. My husband and I have. We tried to find you before Christmas but we lost our way." The woman placed a comforting arm about the little girl's slender form.

"Really?" The little girl asked as she finally raised her eyes. A beautiful blond haired woman stood beside a tall dark haired man, both smiling kindly.

"Yes, dear. Come with us. We will buy you something to eat." The woman said as she led the little girl from the shed.

They walked in silence, the girl wondering about the kindness of strangers, something she had never experienced in her young life.

They fed her, of course, a large feast at their large house. They gave her a warm coat and she prepared to leave, to return to her cold shack. They stopped her, of course, and invited her to stay.

"For how long?" She asked in awe.

"For always." The man said.

And in the kindness and love of the holiday season, she was blessed with a mother, a father and a home. She was blessed beyond belief. She never forgot where she came from, never forgot what she had lacked and was always grateful for her family and home.

He grabbed his fathers arm in anger and demanded the gift. His father refused, as he had so often lately. They left to Paris and he remained alone with the maids and servants who wanted nothing to do with him. He had no friends and spent many weeks alone. His parents took constant trips now, leaving him to his own spoiled devices and the family that was never really a family seperated farther and the boy never understood the true spirit of appreciation or love. He never saw his fault.

© Copyright 2007 DragonWrites~The Fire Faerie~ (UN: mystdancer50 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
DragonWrites~The Fire Faerie~ has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/215303-Crystals-In-The-Moonlight