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Home For Christmas

Home For Christmas

2 mins 492 2 mins 492

As he woke up, he realised that he was lying on an operating table and faces in white masks were peering down at him. Then he felt the pain rushing at him like a bullet train and passed out. 


When he came to, he was in a hospital room with his right arm scraped and head pounding. He stared at the pristine white ceiling for a while, trying to remember why he was here. It must be the drugs, he thought, that had made him muddle-headed after the surgery. Sighing out loud, he used his left hand to feel the bandages on his head, and a sharp burst of pain brought the memories back.


Someone, he recalled, had rammed their pick-up truck on the side on his mobile sedan, making his car skid across the road to smash onto the street light. Blood had blinded his vision, but he remembered someone wrenching the door open and dragging him out just before the car exploded. Then the siren sounded and paramedics lifted him onto the stretcher. 


As his injuries were not exceptionally severe, he was discharged after three days. On the way home, signs of the upcoming festival were visible as each shop featured a wreath of holly and the last-minute shoppers were dressed in red. Every household was celebrating, every house was decorated except one. It sat on the end of the road, its windows dark and doorway unadorned. The house was his.


He entered the house, picking up the lone card on the doormat, a barely furnished living room greeting him. Collapsing on the sofa, he scrutinized the unfamiliar grey coat in his hands, knowing that it belonged to the man who had rescued him. 


Feeling the pockets for a clue to its owner’s identity, he came across a small black planner. Scribbled on the first page were its possessor’s details, but only the address was legible as the rest of the page was stained with blood. The cramped script looked vaguely familiar and he flinched when remembered why. Looking at the Christmas card that he had picked, he compared the addresses. The card was from his step-brother, someone who managed to find him no matter how often he relocated. He was also the owner of the planner. 


It seemed like he was going home for Christmas. 


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