TW: attempted suicide
Christmas morning started off perfectly. I woke up to the scent of my mom's famous breakfast, filling the air with the promise of another perfect Christmas. I grinned, knowing this would be the best Christmas yet—especially since Kyle wasn't here to ugly up the house or bring the mood down with his sulking. For the first time, the house felt like it was truly mine, without his gloomy presence dragging everything down.
I bounced out of bed and raced downstairs. The living room was exactly as I imagined it: a tree towering over a mountain of presents, all wrapped in shiny paper with my name on them. The room was alive with the sound of Aunt Hazel and my cousins already digging into their own gifts, laughter and chatter filling the air. It was everything I'd wanted—a Christmas where I was the star, just like it should be.
