Chapter 3
The door swung open. It was Mom.
Her smile dropped the second she saw me. A look of annoyance took its place.
"Where have you been? You're all covered in snow. What a mess," she said.
Her voice wasn't loud, but it stabbed right into me like an ice pick.
My lips quivered as I tried to explain. "Mom, I..."
She cut me off. "Alright. Ella has an online round of the national physics competition tomorrow. She's in the living room practicing, trying to get in the zone. Don't go in there. You'll just throw her off."
She was already starting to shut the door. "She can't get sick. This competition is very important."
Panic rising, I blocked the door with my body.
"Mom, I got meatballs from Rossi's." I held up the bag. "I spent three hours in line..."
Mom barely glanced at the bag, her frown getting even worse.
She scolded, "Who asked you to go? Wandering off on Christmas Eve. Now look how late it is. Your dad already threw a frozen lasagna in the oven.
"Get out of the way. Don't distract Ella."
I heard Dad's voice from inside, "Who's that? What's taking so long?"
"Avery's back," Mom called out. "She's all cold. I'm making her wait outside to air out so she doesn't drag that cold in."
"Alright," Dad replied.
Then came Aiden's excited shout. "Dad, I beat the boss. Come check it out!"
"Shh. You'll distract Ella," Dad snapped.
The fun was all for them.
I had nothing.
The door slammed shut with a harsh thud right in front of me.
The noise made my ears buzz.
I was left standing outside.
On Christmas Eve, my own family shut me out.
I stared at the icy iron door. A brand-new Christmas wreath hung on it.
How ironic.
I pounded on the door. "Mom, open up. I'm really cold.
"Mom, please let me in. I'm freezing.
"Dad, Aiden!"
My voice sounded so small in the empty snow.
It was as if no one inside could hear me.
Through the crack in the door, the sounds drifted out clearly: the Christmas music from the TV, Aiden's shouts over his game, Ella's soft rustle of pages.
Yet my plea got no answer at all.
Snowflakes settled on my hair and lashes, freezing into tiny crystals.
I crouched down, holding the bag of meatballs.
The meatballs had lost the warmth they had when they were fresh out of the pot. They were starting to feel stiff, like my heart.
I pressed my face against the icy door, hoping to catch a bit of warmth from inside.
I heard Mom say, "Ella, you must be tired. Come have some lasagna. It's your favorite, the one with spinach and ricotta."
Dad chimed in, "Aiden, stop playing and come eat. You'll get your present after dinner."
"Mom, I'm not hungry. Let me finish one more question," Ella replied.
"I want two big ones," Aiden said.
Inside, the family was full of warmth and laughter.
It felt as if, to them, their family had always been four people.
I huddled by the door, staring at the warm glow spilling from the window, feeling like that little match girl from the fairy tale.
Every time she lit a match, she'd see a roast goose and a Christmas tree.
What about me?
I saw nothing.
All I saw was a closed door and, behind it, a home that didn't need me.
I felt frozen to the core.
The cold seeped so deep, it made my bones throb with pain.
I was too exhausted, too sleepy.
I slumped against the door, curling up.
Snowflakes quietly covered me, wrapping me in a blanket of ice.
It felt like I was seeing myself back when I was little.
Aiden rolled around on the floor, crying and throwing a fit, trying to take my candy.
Mom came over, slapped me without a word, and made me give it to him.
I gave him the candy, and he smiled.
Mom smiled too. She patted my head. That was the only time she ever smiled at me.
Turns out, the only time I ever got any pity was when I let go, when I gave up something for them.
A faint smile crossed my lips.
I closed my eyes.
At last, the world fell silent.