Dear Mr. Santa Claus, I hope this letter finds your very well. I have been a good girl all year. I do hope that I have been on the nice list. I did all my chores like washing the dishes, taking Baxter out for walks, and cleaning my room. With that in mind I wish for just a few different things this Christmas that I have listed out below. If it is not possible to get them then I hope that they can instead be replaced with something that is of equal value at the same level. * Simply Bake Cake Oven set * Pink ear warmers and matching pink socks * A flute * Someone to sweep me off my feet * World peace I am very excited to try baking my own dishes instead of having Miss Noelle handle all the cooking in the house since she seems very tired sometimes. The pink is of course my favorite color as you remember from last year. A flute is because I wanted to join a band but still need an instrument. The movie I watched yesterday was Charmi the Princess Fairy and she had a dashing prince and I think I deserve one as well. He was tall and strapping, with red hair like fire, and he was kind to all the lost Pegasi, even the one who did not know how to fly properly. I would like a prince like that very much. And of course world peace is world peace. Furthermore my father made a remark that you were not real which is downright ridiculous if you were to ask me. I am sorry he decided to say such a thing that is clearly untrue and hope that you do not put him on the naughty list unless you really think he deserves it. I look forward to seeing what you decide to bring to Marlowe this year and hope that you are safe on all of your travels. Merry Christmas and God bless. Sincerely, Eden Kellogg Capellini --- Dear Mr. Santa Claus, I am writing to you to thank you for the gift of pink ear warmers, matching pink socks, the ballerina tutu, the Chatty Charmi dolls, and the other gifts of the season you left me and my family here in Marlowe. I am very excited to use the clothes, but I was hoping and asking for a flute and not anything ballerina-related like my Father keeps insisting I take up. Without the flute I cannot begin to practice in order to join the band. I am not mad I am just a little sad but I hope that is okay because I understand I can’t be greedy and ask for more. I also wanted to tell you I am sorry but even though you gifted the Simply Bake Cake Oven set, my parents told me I cannot use it because I have already had too much cake in the past weeks and Miss Noelle does a fine job cooking for us so there is no need for me to try something that silly and dangerous. I tried to tell them that if you brought me the oven then it must be okay for me to use but they said it was a mistake and they are returning it to Aunt Julie. Which is confusing because it came from the North Pole but did have Aunt Julie’s wrapping paper on it. I know because we were at her house for Three Kings day. Nevertheless thank you for the gifts and I hope that you can get a lot of rest and exercise after your many cookies. I look forward to next Christmas. Happy New Year and God bless you. Sincerely, Eden Kellogg Capellini --- Dear Diary, As I stated in the previous entry, yesterday was the Winter Solstice dance and it was becoming increasingly frustrating that Amanda and Larry were dating now, since I still hadn’t been asked out by anyone except for Oliver Lombardi, who is by all means a brainless and heartless imbecile. Of course, Mother and Father kept insisting that I go out with Oli, but… recently, I called him a chauvinist pig in front of them, which prompted much backlash and lectures, etc. etc. He deserved it for the stupid things he said in history class. They told me I was making a mistake, that the Lombardi family was important, and that Father already had ties to them, but I refuse to be their little doll when it comes to something as personal as allowing a man to court me. I’d rather dance with a sophisticated man than an unruly *boy*, thank you very much. On the brighter side of things, Sandra and I were both going, and she was still single. So we spent a good amount of time talking about strategies for the next parliamentary debate meet, and that kept my mind off of things as we drove to the venue (the large gym at Marlowe High). Trenton High is going to be absolutely devastated when we take the stage against their members. Haha. In the large gym, they had the disco ball hanging, and the lights reflected off my silver dress very nicely, thank heavens. I wanted to dance. I liked the music, but of course, I had no one to dance with. If I moved onto the dancefloor, someone like Oli would creep over, no doubt, attempting to save me from a dreaded life of spinsterhood. Oh no\! I was worried that the entire dance would be a waste spent schmoozing with other classmates while my friends were all on the dance floor. It’s not that I hated my classmates, I just… I think I had high hopes, and they hadn’t been fulfilled yet by any man. It’s funny, really, how things changed. My throat was doing that inane thing where it constricts and it's hard to breathe, and I went outside for some fresh air. I could still hear the disco music thumping from inside, but I was in the cold, a little unnerved but calming down. As I walked outside the gym, I bumped into \- who could have guessed \- Jonny Asphodel. I know that I’ve mentioned him before. First as that bumbling stranger who kept submitting the blurriest photos to the yearbook club, and then more recently as my partner in biology class. And he seemed to be all alone, looking into the bushes. I decided to humor him. “Found any chubacabra yet, Jonny?” No frog dissection or genetics lecture could escape Jonny’s usual rants and raves about cryptozoology \- the kid seemed to hardly have anything else on his mind besides the unreal. His eyes widened behind those huge glasses of his, making them seem bigger and surprisingly cuter than usual. “Chupacabra? I was just looking for the Jersey Devil, but have you seen a chupacabra in this region?” He muttered more about something like that, when Oli Lombardi appeared in the corner of my eye, loud and obnoxious as ever. Before Oli could call my name, I made a split decision. “Hold my hands?” I asked Jonny, and he grabbed on. I swayed him, as if we were dancing. I was blushing hard, and felt as if I was drunk (though I still hadn’t drunk anything of course), and the next thing I knew, Oliver had stormed off, horrified that I was dancing with social pariah, Jonny Asphodel. I couldn’t help but laugh into the night. The two of us kept chatting after that, and headed inside for another dance, and I felt an almost collective gasp when we did. Was it a terrible decision? Maybe. But I’m tired of making the “right” decisions when all they do is suffocate me more and more. Jonny and I had a wonderful time dancing. He showed me what was supposed to be the mating call of a Northeastern Maneating Griffon and I could not stop laughing. It was the first time in a long time that I had felt seen. Or felt that giddy. I might see if he’d let me accompany him on one of his “cryptidzoology hunts” next week. Sincerely, Eden --- | Ok\! Sounds good. | | | | | :---- | :---- | :---- | :---- | | *Sent one week ago.* | | | | | | | I need to get this off my chest. It’s really frustrating that you’ve been gone so suddenly and with such little explanation and I’m starting to feel like I don’t even matter? It’s our anniversary, Jonny. You said it would be a couple of days and then I found out you’re in Alaska hunting yetis? We were saving that money, I told you not to pull from the account because I was saving that for something special for the both of us. I can’t believe you\! I really am trying so hard to get it through to you but I don’t feel like you are slowing down to think about anything I say. You’re obsessed with this cryptid hunt and I’m sorry, but it's not funny anymore. Not cute, not charming or adorable its fucking annoying and I can’t take it anymore. You know what my father said to me the other day? He joked, maybe your husband's off fucking bigfoot. I’m so tired of this. Are you seriously proving them all right? That you’re just a psycho believing in fantasies? You need to grow up and I don’t want to be here anymore if you don’t Jonny. | | | | | *Message Unsent* | | | | | I bet you don’t even remember this, but I started trying to finish that song. The one on the guitar. Do you even notice me playing it in the study when you’re busy in the other room? Mother and Father have told me that they need me back in the family business but I was thinking of traveling instead. Drop off the face of the earth like you do all the time. With just a guitar. How ridiculous. | | | | | *Message Unsent* | | --- ~~Dear Sol,~~ ~~I wanted to thank you for all your assistance with the case last month and the lovely evening~~ *Eden sighs and deletes the message. She rubs her temples hard, undoes her ponytail and redoes it tighter.* ~~Dear Mr. Solomon Malphus~~ ~~Please disregard our exchange. I would prefer that we strike that encounter from the record. Not that I wished we did not have it, just that~~ *Her fingers pause over the keyboard, before she quickly deletes the typing once more.* ~~Sol,~~ ~~You asshole. I know something is up but I just can’t name it. You act like you’re in total control and so smug, but this was mutual and I refuse to~~ *She groans and exits out of her email without saving and turns off her computer. She sighs once more and moves from the couch to the counter, grabbing her keys, a sweater, and heading out into the hotel hallway. She exits into the cold air and walks down the street. Downtown is busy, and she blends into the crowd as just another woman heading to some nightlife. There are other women, most younger than her but she can’t be that old. Bachelorette parties, and the like. She admires the boldness of their dresses, the skin they show, red lipstick on their mouths like fire. But it’s too much, isn’t it? Her own dress was more modest, as if she were a little afraid to really let loose. It was still a nice dress, though. White, and with a nice shine to it, reminds her of a dress she had as a teen. But maybe she’s afraid she’d fall back into something stupid and reckless again.* *She just needs a drink. That’s it. That’s all she wants this year, a fucking drink and to forget everything this year gave and took from her.* *She finds somewhere quieter, where she can sink into the background, be forgotten and unnoticed, and totally alone. So gutwrenchingly alone after all the mistakes she’s-* *“I like your dress.”* *Eden looks up.* *“Is this seat taken?”* *Eden smiles and shakes her head.* *“It’s all yours,” Eden says.* *The woman with red hair like fire smiles back, wide and radiant, and sits down on the stool beside her.* --- Dearest, I pray that you are *~~smarter~~* *~~kinder~~* *~~holier~~* *~~freer~~* *~~braver~~* *~~humbler~~* *better* than me, better than anything I could ever be. I’m sorry I haven’t yet given you more *~~time~~* *~~family~~* *~~generosity~~* *~~money~~* *~~stability~~* *~~blood\&sweat\&tears~~* *~~ofmyself~~* I’m sorry that everything is blurry. I’m sorry that memories are dead weights we’ve chosen to shear away from our minds to leave behind these shores for greener ones. I’m sorry you are not mine. I’m sorry I am yours. Please don’t *forgive* *forget* *blame* *free* *absolve* *hate* *love* me. Please don’t. Please. You deserve better than something as fickle as my love. > > > > > > > > > > > > Please forgive me if I give you my all love anyways. Eden