A Christmas Suprise
From the moment we stepped out of the car, I could hear little kids my age shouting and "Frosty the Snowman" blasting from the speakers. Everywhere I looked, I saw green and red lights, snowmen, and Christmas trees. As we shivered and waited for the show to start, we wandered around the well-decorated shops. Suddenly, I was craving some of the mouth-watering sweets I had seen in the hands of many euphoric teens.
"The funnel cake smells so good," I exclaimed, "Mummy, can I please have some?"
My mother smiled lovingly and said, "Of course."
By the time the sun set, the entire park was full of enthusiastic families. At last, the Stone Mountain Christmas Show had begun and the immense crowd buzzed with excitement. The show captured my interest immediately with its flying fairies and falling snow.
Once the event had come to an end, I was exhausted and eager to go home. The car ride back was merry as we sang along to Christmas carols playing from the radio.
"I hope you girls are ready for opening presents tomorrow morning," my mother told us, as she opened the garage.
My sister chuckled and said, "That's something we will always be ready for."
With a smile on her face, my mother opened the door to the house and immediately her face fell.
"I want you guys to wait here," she commanded.
Not knowing why we were told to stay in the garage, my sister and I exchanged looks of confusion with a hint of worry. When my mother came back, her face was pale and she gravely told us to come inside.
The first thing I noticed was the ice cold draft that gave me goosebumps. Slowly, I looked around and trepidation combined with fury coursed through my veins. All thoughts of Christmas vanished and the day's celebrations seemed distant. The cold air I felt was coming from a window that had been smashed in and now had a gaping hole. There were sharp shards of glass everywhere. As I took it all in, I felt sick and the funnel cake from earlier threatened to make a comeback.
"I don't feel so good," I whispered, still in shock.
Slowly, we made our way upstairs to see that all of our belongings had been thrown about like trash. Papers covered the floor, couches were turned upside down, and clothes were strewn everywhere. To my disappointment, even my precious baby book had been ripped in half. I hadn't yet looked in my own room, as the lights were off and I was terrified of what might be waiting for me in the dark. Trembling, I made my way over to my room, praying for god to be with me.
"Hai Bhagwan. Hai Bhagwan. Hai Bhagwan," I repeated the phrase over and over.Thankfully, no one jumped out at me like I had feared. Instead, I simply stood and surveyed the damage that had been done.
What seemed like hours later, the police arrived with their flashing blue and red lights. The officers demanded that we get out of the house immediately as the intruder might still be inside. Hearing this, a chill went down my spine and I could see my mother and sister glance at the house nervously. As we waited outside for the verdict, my mother put on a brave face and told us that it would all be just fine. Once they determined that the trespasser was long gone, we were allowed to go back inside. Naively, I hoped that it would all be back to normal, as if the ransacking had never occurred, that is was only a horrible nightmare.
Eventually, the officers covered up the window and we were left in a household that now seemed sinister, full of dark closets, menacing shadows, and inexplicable noises. We each went off into our separate rooms, knowing none of us would get a wink of sleep.
On Christmas day, I vaguely remembered the excitement and joy from the day before. Instead, the boarded up window served as a constant unwanted reminder of the invasion of privacy that had occurred. According to my mother, for days after the incident, even the slightest things would scare me and to this day, dark rooms and the unknown within them never fail to terrify me. That night, the intruder not only took our belongings and our privacy, they also took away our sense of safety and security.
From the moment we stepped out of the car, I could hear little kids my age shouting and "Frosty the Snowman" blasting from the speakers. Everywhere I looked, I saw green and red lights, snowmen, and Christmas trees. As we shivered and waited for the show to start, we wandered around the well-decorated shops. Suddenly, I was craving some of the mouth-watering sweets I had seen in the hands of many euphoric teens.
"The funnel cake smells so good," I exclaimed, "Mummy, can I please have some?"
My mother smiled lovingly and said, "Of course."
By the time the sun set, the entire park was full of enthusiastic families. At last, the Stone Mountain Christmas Show had begun and the immense crowd buzzed with excitement. The show captured my interest immediately with its flying fairies and falling snow.
Once the event had come to an end, I was exhausted and eager to go home. The car ride back was merry as we sang along to Christmas carols playing from the radio.
"I hope you girls are ready for opening presents tomorrow morning," my mother told us, as she opened the garage.
My sister chuckled and said, "That's something we will always be ready for."
With a smile on her face, my mother opened the door to the house and immediately her face fell.
"I want you guys to wait here," she commanded.
Not knowing why we were told to stay in the garage, my sister and I exchanged looks of confusion with a hint of worry. When my mother came back, her face was pale and she gravely told us to come inside.
The first thing I noticed was the ice cold draft that gave me goosebumps. Slowly, I looked around and trepidation combined with fury coursed through my veins. All thoughts of Christmas vanished and the day's celebrations seemed distant. The cold air I felt was coming from a window that had been smashed in and now had a gaping hole. There were sharp shards of glass everywhere. As I took it all in, I felt sick and the funnel cake from earlier threatened to make a comeback.
"I don't feel so good," I whispered, still in shock.
Slowly, we made our way upstairs to see that all of our belongings had been thrown about like trash. Papers covered the floor, couches were turned upside down, and clothes were strewn everywhere. To my disappointment, even my precious baby book had been ripped in half. I hadn't yet looked in my own room, as the lights were off and I was terrified of what might be waiting for me in the dark. Trembling, I made my way over to my room, praying for god to be with me.
"Hai Bhagwan. Hai Bhagwan. Hai Bhagwan," I repeated the phrase over and over.Thankfully, no one jumped out at me like I had feared. Instead, I simply stood and surveyed the damage that had been done.
What seemed like hours later, the police arrived with their flashing blue and red lights. The officers demanded that we get out of the house immediately as the intruder might still be inside. Hearing this, a chill went down my spine and I could see my mother and sister glance at the house nervously. As we waited outside for the verdict, my mother put on a brave face and told us that it would all be just fine. Once they determined that the trespasser was long gone, we were allowed to go back inside. Naively, I hoped that it would all be back to normal, as if the ransacking had never occurred, that is was only a horrible nightmare.
Eventually, the officers covered up the window and we were left in a household that now seemed sinister, full of dark closets, menacing shadows, and inexplicable noises. We each went off into our separate rooms, knowing none of us would get a wink of sleep.
On Christmas day, I vaguely remembered the excitement and joy from the day before. Instead, the boarded up window served as a constant unwanted reminder of the invasion of privacy that had occurred. According to my mother, for days after the incident, even the slightest things would scare me and to this day, dark rooms and the unknown within them never fail to terrify me. That night, the intruder not only took our belongings and our privacy, they also took away our sense of safety and security.
