Writer’s Age Group: 10-18 years
The first time Emily heard the banging sound, she ignored it. She was currently reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows for the fifth time along with her favorite drink hot chocolate and nothing could disturb her. But when the noise came again, louder this time, accompanied by the unmistakeable sound of swearing, she extracted herself from her chair and went to investigate.
Holding her book up for defence, Emily stared at what appeared to be a redheaded girl who had crashed into the coffee table next to the fireplace.
Blinking once, twice, she opened her eyes to see a spill of eggnog on the new red carpet that her mom had bought for holiday cheer. Uh- Oh.
There was also a fine layer of soot, which suggested that the girl had come through the chimney and fallen into the fireplace.
Which couldn’t be possible because only Santa Claus did that and he doesn’t ex-
Oh.
Oh.
Emily’s inner monologue was interrupted by a small cough and she glanced down at the girl.
“Who are you?” She asked, still not believing her own inner voice.
“Um… Santa? The girl made it sound like a question.
“Yeah right. As if he exists.”
“He does! Who do you think puts the presents under your tree?” She said nodding over at the tree.
Emily shook her head. “That’s done by our parents and besides, even if Santa Claus did exist, isn’t he an old white moustached man with a potbelly?”
“How sexist is that!” She cried.
Emily felt ashamed, being a self-acclaimed feminist herself. Of course, Santa is girl, how could she not have thought of that before?
“But, I’m actually not Saint Nicholas, that’s my brother. And before that my father and before that my grandfather. It’s actually been running in the family for quite some time.”
“Then why are you here?” I asked. Playing along with her obvious craziness.
It’s not like I actually believe in Santa. Pfft. Obviously not…
“Well, since my amazing brother decided to party all night, my mother panicked and sent me. Even though I’m underage.”
“Uhh… how old are you?”
“I’m fifteen.” Okay, good Emily thought, she’s my age.
“Me too, but I still don’t believe this.” Emily sighed.
“Okay, what did you ask for Christmas?”
“The entire box-set of Percy Jackson.”
The girl nodded, took out her muffler and started rifling through her bag and after a few minutes of searching came up with a big box-like object.
Emily felt her jaw going slack. And she finally admitted it; Saint Nicholas’ sister was in her living room. She could not stop a shiver of excitement.
Like, she’d stayed awake every single Christmas since she was eight and discovered the wonders of Harry Potter. But she had never met the strange girl.
But then again, she had always (always) fallen asleep while waiting.
Emily was pulled back into the present (Haha got it? Present? Present? No? Okay.) By The Girl asking her what her name was.
Emily held out her hand. “Emily.”
The girl smiled and took it. “Christen.”
THE NEXT CHRISTMAS
The next time Emily heard a crash, signalling that Christen had arrived, she ran gleefully to the living room.
But lying there on the red carpet was a boy.
What was Christmas trying to do? Make a fool of her?
“Wow, this place looks like Christmas threw up.” The boy muttered.
“Excuse me?” Emily raised her eyebrows, annoyed by the boy who was supposed to be Christen.
That’s when the boy glanced at her and scrambled up to his feet.
“Who are you?” he asked
“I would ask the same question.”
“Um, hi, I’m Nicholas, call me Nick.”
Emily nodded. “Emily, call me Em and you die.”
Suddenly realization dawned on the strange boy’s- Nick if you must- “Wait a second-”
“I’m not going anywhere.” She muttered before realizing that this was not the time to be sarcastic.
Throwing her a flat look, Nick yelled up the chimney. “Chris, come down here!”
“Why?” An answer came floating down the chimney.
“Because I think I found the girl, you were gushing about.”
“Oh.” A minute later there was a crash then a very sooty Christen fell into the fireplace.
“Hi” She grinned up at Emily.
“Wait… why are both of you here?”
“Mom doesn’t trust me.” Nick groaned.
“Of course she doesn’t.” Christen muttered.
Emily smiled, a real genuine one, not her usual sarcastic smirk. (She only smiled like that when something was really worth her time laughing at.)
After meeting two times, both more unexpected than the other, this brother- sister duo was really growing on her.
A FEW YEARS LATER
“Do you not sleep or something?” Nick asked curiously upon seeing her awake once again.
This was the fifth Christmas they spent together and Emily had decided that Nick was the most infuriating person alive.
“It’s just that you’re always awake when we come.”
“Well… Harry Potter here keeps me awake.” Emily waved the book around, accidently on purpose hitting Nick on the head.
Christen snorted with laughter. But it soon died down and Christen adopted a more serious look.
“Here’s the thing. We may seem the same age as you but we’re still age-less, at some point we’ll just stop growing.”
“Seriously?” Emily raised an eyebrow, surprised. She thought that they were normal teens- other than the fact that they flew around every Christmas distributing gifts.
“So… are you okay with it?” Christen looked nervous.
“Except for the fact that this idiot gets to live and I have to die.” Emily sighed dramatically.
Nick shot her a flat look. “You deserve to die, Em.” He smirked.
“Shut up Nicholas.”
Christen sighed. “Can’t you two ever shut up?”
“No.” Both of them chorused in unison.
Emily laughed with the kind of happiness that you’re best friends is supposed to make you feel. Only, the two people who were her friends were immortal Santa Clauses who were taking their dad’s job because according to them, he was too lazy.
Fate is so weird sometimes…
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This story was shortlisted for the final round of #AWinterInStoryland Story Writing Contest. Read other shortlisted entries here.
Being a contest entry, this story has been posted without any edits.
