Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2178227-Bridgets-Miracle
by OOT™
Rated: E · Fiction · Family · #2178227
Nobody cared about Bridget's miracle. Writer's Cramp entry - Christmas movie title prompts
"I just witnessed a miracle on 34th Street!" Bridget rushed into the kitchen, oblivious of the trail of mud she left on the floor.

"Don't you mean 3rd Avenue and 4th Street? You're such an idiot," her brother, Billy, taunted. At 14 years old, he never hesitated to remind his younger sister that the 2 year age difference made him superior.

Bridget glared at him. A die hard fan of Christmas movies, she had referred to the intersection as 34th Street for as long as she could remember.

"You're missing the point, Billy. I witnessed a miracle! It was so awesome! I..."

"Let me guess. Tony Nelson finally looked your way," Billy chided.

Her father looked up from his newspaper. "Who's Tony Nelson?"

"The dork Bridget likes. She's in love actually."

Bridget could feel herself blushing. "I am not, and he has nothing to do with it. Judy and I..."

"Didn't we tell you to stop hanging around with Judy?" Her father's stern voice interrupted her. She sighed as he put his newspaper on the table, knowing the lecture she had heard a hundred times before was about to begin. She was right.

"She's a bad influence. Her father has lost every job he's ever had because of his drinking. And her mother is just as bad. I wonder sometimes if they even realize they have a daughter. I imagine it's a wonderful life with no job to worry about and..."

Bridget tuned him out until his mouth stopped moving. Finally, she resumed her story.

"Anyway, we were just standing there in the rain when an..." Bridget stopped again when her mother walked in and grabbed her shoulder.

"Bridget! Look what a mess you're making! Now, get yourself cleaned up for dinner while I mop this mess up."

In her haste to tell her story, Bridget hadn't noticed that she had been dripping water all over the kitchen floor. Knowing better than to argue with her mother, she reluctantly gave up on telling her story and stomped out of the kitchen.

"I'd be better off being home alone," she mumbled as she trudged up the stairs. On her way to the bathroom to take a shower, she suddenly had a better idea. If her family wouldn't listen to her, she could always count on her journal. She ran into her bedroom and retrieved it from under her mattress.

She sat at her desk and hastily began writing. Today, I witnessed a miracle. My friend, Judy, and I were standing in the rain when an elf appeared out of nowhere. He looked just like they do in the story books mom used to read to me! He took us to Santa's workshop and..."

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