The Red Christmas Tree

        Some may find it weird to own a red Christmas tree. But not me, I’ve been coloring my Christmas trees red ever since I was a little kid. It started way back when.  You see, I had never seen a Christmas tree before. I was usually locked away in my house and red was my favorite color, but it gets deeper than that. When you think of it, what does a christmas tree mean, what does it portray? I never knew the answers to these questions, because whenever I would ask my mother she would beat me and tell me to shut up and never talk about it again. Well since I didn’t know what a Christmas tree meant, I opted for the next best thing, what does red mean? For me, red always meant sweet delicious food like strawberries or a peppermint taste, like a candy cane. So whenever I thought of Christmas those were the two things my mind went to. 

         I had never even heard of Christmas or Santa Claus until I heard some of my classmates talking about it at school. When I asked my mother about it she said it was an awful thing and that it’s the reason my dad left us. One day when I turned 10 years old a kid from school by the name of Robert walked up to me and asked how my day was. I remember that day so clearly because that was the first time anyone from school had ever even acknowledged me. I was so happy I started crying. After that Robert started saying he was sorry and didn't mean to make me cry but little did he know these were the happiest tears I had ever had cried. Ever since that day Robert and I have been friends eating together, laughing together, even walking to school together. 

         One day when the snow was coming down hard, Robert suggested that I should come over to his place and celebrate Christmas with him. I was a little hesitant because this would be the first time I had ever done something without telling my mother. But after some persuasion Robert convinced me. I asked him if he was going to have a Christmas tree, a real Christmas tree. He responded by saying “obviously.” 

“Is the tree going to be red?” I asked

“Red? Why red?”

“Because that’s the best color for a christmas tree” I replied in a confident tone.

“Ummm, sure we’ll make the tree red if you want I guess” Robert responded in a confused tone.

         After that day I was so excited. My mother beat me because she hated seeing me happy, in her mind if she was sulking then I had to be as well. But this didn't stop me, when I was around her I would pretend to be depressed and stuff but the moment she was out of sight I would jump in the air out of joy. I would count down the days till Christmas on my wall excited to see the number of the days get smaller each morning. And then there it was, the number 0 on the wall. I got my mom’s permission to leave the house and sprinted to Robert's place. When I got there he was already outside waiting for me. 

        The party lasted the whole day. People were singing Christmas songs and eating gingerbread cookies. Some were wrapping gifts they had bought at the last minute whilst others got drunk on alcohol. For me the only thing I needed to get me wobbly and barely stand up straight wasn’t alcohol, it was pure joy. I had never been so happy in my entire life and when the clock struck 10:00 pm: they kicked everyone out, but the happiness inside me felt as though it could last me a lifetime. I walked home in the moonlight knowing my mother would be mad, but I didn't care, nothing she could do to me would make me think this wasn’t worth it. When I walked through the door of course I got a beating but after that I went to bed like the beating never happened.