You have no Christmas joy, you hate yourself and life. No one understands you.
Do you like it?" your Mother asks you one cold Christmas morning. Snow covers the ground and your whole family is there. All sitting down in the living room circled around the tree, lights are hung up and beautiful decorations are hung on the fake branches. You're sitting on the floor of the room, looking at your Mother as if she was a rodent, which you hate by the way.
Your Mother is about in her thirties, and has chestnut hair, her little brown eyes and her heart shape chin. As her hair rolled up into a bun with a pink clip attached.
"Hello?" Your Mother waves her hand in your face to get your attention. Thinking you went to fantasy land. Blinking enough times to realized you're really in reality, you feel something soft. And itchy, so you look down to see one of those ugly Christmas sweaters you saw in the mall when you went out to the movies one night.
It had a snowman saying "It's snow problem!" with it jumping in the air. The color was a skyblue and snow flakes all over the back. You would never wear this, but your Mother would be crushed if you didn't wear it. So you put it on and looked in the mirror, and it was so ugly, you almost threw up. You put your hand near your mouth as your parents both look sad, with their I'm-so-sad-go-away look.
"I made that for you, I thought you would like this." You're then glum and pissed, nobody understands you and you went up to your room pissed, you never wanted this day to come, you're a teenager and seem nobody cares about you.
As soon you entered your room, you decide to go straight to sleep and close your eyes and pretend you're dying in a huge whole and about to bee buried alive. You pull the pillow over your face and sigh loudly.
You have no joy, you hate everyone. You feel bad you disappointed your parents, and, you hate yourself too.