Short Stories by RTR members

Written during the December holidays!

A Fellow Room To Read member:

Thevuni.K

Glimmering ice coated the street, lying in wait for an accident as people hurried along, safe in their shells of expensive skins. A thin jacket wasn’t nearly enough to protect one from the icy wind which cut through to the bone, alas, it was the only thing the little boy had to protect himself from the merciless cold.

Eyes trained heavily on his tattered shoes, the boy looked up occasionally to peer into the warm windows of shops. The windows were a crack into heaven; a break from the boy’s bleak reality. Roaring fireplaces, piles of Christmas delicacies, and Christmas trees proudly showing off their intricate decorations were something which the boy would not be having this year. For him, there would be no table laden with steaming dishes, no presents anticipating to be opened, and no family members there to surround him with hugs and laughter. Feeling as though he had been staring through the window for too long, the boy kept walking.

Crunch!

What was that? The boy peered down at something glistening beneath his feet. Even though half buried under the snow, it’s instantly recognizable shape made thrills go down the boy’s spine. It was a star! One that could be seen glimmering on top of every Christmas tree. Making sure that no one around was watching him, the boy snatched the star off of the pavement, he then made his way home as fast as he could.

Feet trudging through the snow, he finally reached the familiar rundown doorstep.

Home.

“I’m home!” he called out as soon as he entered. The only response was a deafening silence; mother must be working late again. The boy couldn’t remember the last time he had a complete conversation with her, he hoped that at least on Christmas she would be home. Guess not this year.

He made his way into the cramped living room and stopped before what once might have been a Christmas tree. The few branches that it had were barren, devoid of any decoration other than a single cracked bauble. The tree drooped with a sadness that seemed to envelope the entire house. And yet, a tingling excitement seemed to taint the air as the boy quickly wiped the star he had been tightly clutching and stood upon a chair to place it at the top of the tree. He got down and stood back to inspect his handiwork. The sight before him was worlds away from the masterful displays at the shops. The tree had seen its days, and the bauble it held was pitifully dull. The star which normally would have been lighting up the entire room with its magic was missing one of its points and fighting to stay alive.

And yet, something other than the dead Christmas spirit had entered the atmosphere of the room. The boy felt it too, it was almost tangible.

Happiness? Warmth? Hope? Maybe.

But now, with the star placed at the top of the tree, the boy could feel a sense of spirit. The star was broken and had lost most of its shimmer, but maybe that was okay. Maybe, just maybe, this time next year the boy will be surrounded by presents and his family. And the tree will come alive with beautiful lights and decorations. And the little star, missing one point, tried to shine twice as bright for the little boy admiring it; bringing in hope for a better Christmas next year.