Christmas in Evergreen

As I packed my books in a box, the love of my life, Christopher Tanner, walked into my room. “Hey, cutie.” He said; I smiled, placing the last stack of books in the box, “Hey,” I said, kissing his cheek, “have you come to help me pack?” I asked, but he held me before saying, “I’m hoping to talk you out of leaving.” I sighed, “Chris,” I said, “we’ve been over this. I want to go to New York to pursue my dream of becoming an author.” “You can be an author here!” Chris snapped, which made me jump back. Chris took a deep breath before saying, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get upset.” I nodded. Since his father died, Chris has had many anger issues. I confessed my worry to his mother. She had noticed his aggression too and planned to confront him about it. If she ever did, I didn’t know. Chris pulled me into another hug and hugged me even tighter than before. “It’s okay, Chris,” I said, rubbing his back. I knew he was right; I didn’t have to move to New York to become an author, but i

After packing the car, I double-checked my apartment for anything I had forgotten. Mom has been blowing up my phone every ten minutes to see when I’d be there, and I tell her each time that it’s a five-hour drive and that I haven’t left yet. I was about to get in the car when the phone rang again. Ignoring it, I texted her to tell her I was about to leave. Cranking up the music as I tried to calm my nerves, I just prayed that I don’t see Chris any time soon. I arrived home almost two hours late due to traffic and a detour. I pulled up in the driveway, and Mom came out and hugged me, “Oh, my baby, I’ve missed you!” I smiled and hugged her, “I’ve missed you too, Mom,” I said. We got my bags out of the car after she finally released me. Mom escorted me inside and brought me to my old bedroom; there was fresh bedding, towels, and a fluffy robe. And as a bonus, mom situated my desk for me. “I remember when you were younger, you’d have so many colors of pens, so I bought a new pack

While I was in school, whenever I sprained my ankle, I had my writing, but now, all I can do is lay here and do my work; at least I got more time to work on my book once my actual work was done. For the past week, I have been sitting on the couch and bed, working. Mom stuck around the house to look after me, but after a couple days, she trusted that I’d be able to take care of myself. I got up and made my way to the kitchen. I was nearly done with my work for the day, so I decided to take a break to make a sandwich. Ham, turkey, mayo, and cheese, the perfect sandwich! I grabbed a drink and my favorite chips and went back to the living room to watch a movie. After my lunch, I went back to work. Mom returned and smiled at me, “So, what are your plans for after Christmas?” She asked; I shrugged, “Probably go back home,” I replied; Mom seemed disappointed, “I was hoping you’d stay for New Year’s Eve.” I sighed, “I’ll see what I can do,” I told her

Touch. What a delicate sense. The feeling of someone touching my body left me breathless… I couldn’t see or hear; all I could do was feel. Lips making their way down my body. Hands caressing my skin as if I were a fragile doll that could break any moment. I felt the person causing these strange feelings come up to my ear and whisper, “I want you.” The voice was deep and husky. I didn’t know who the owner was, but my body ached for whoever he was. My lips parted, “I want you too,” I muttered. Soon, I felt this man’s hands on my body, yearning to take me. A soft moan escaped my lips as I felt him slip into me, moaning my name, “Sophia…” My eyes shot open at the sound of my alarm; sighing, I reached over to shut it off. Getting up, I wiped the sweat off my brow and sat there, trying to compose myself. Who was that man, I wondered? Do I know him? I decided to ponder this as I got dressed for the day. Part of me wanted to curl back in bed to see if I could

I wanted to slam my head against a wall. I’ve reread my novel three times, yet I still couldn’t figure out the ending. I felt like I was going to crash before even having a chance to fly. I wanted to throw my computer but figured a break would be better. Besides, I need a sandwich. Mom and Dad were trying to finish decorating the house and the tree, which looked amazing. They both smiled at me as I made my way to the kitchen. Dad was untangling the lights as he followed me into the kitchen, “How’s the writing going?” He asked; I gave him a look as I pulled out the ingredients for my sandwich. “Sophia?” “I don’t want to talk about it,” I said, throwing my sandwich together. Mom walked in and placed her hands on her hips, “We’ll be having dinner in a few hours, Sophia, if you’d rather wait.” She suggested. I smiled, “Thanks, but I’m starving,” I told her, grabbing a drink from the fridge and moving to the table. “Okay,” Dad said, grabbing some water from the fridge. “Well,