Boy was it starting to get cold. I'd been debating sleeping in the theater as the temperature dropped below freezing, but it's just so not classy to sleep in the workplace. Since sleeping in a tent is definitely very classy. Alas, I couldn't let the weather get the best of me, it's supposed to be the jolliest time of the year! People always like a good holiday movie to escape the rush of the holidays, or at least that's what I'm hoping for. I slowly crawled out of the warmth of my sleeping bag and pulled on the many layers of my winter clothes. Thank god for the dense tree cover or the tent would have collapsed from the weight of the snow. I maneuvered out of the clearing and rode off out of the park.
I've never had such a hard time navigating the streets. "I've got a bad feeling about this," I thought as I approached the first busy road, covered in a nice sheet of ice. People had still decided to 'brave' the streets and drive. Riding a bike is clearly the better option in freezing weather, right?
After finally getting my waffle and coffee for breakfast, I approached the theater in as little holiday cheer as was humanly possible. Some person at the Casa d' Waffles thought it would be funny to replay the chipmunk version of every Christmas song known to man over and over again. Whoever thought it was a good idea to invent talking chipmunks was seriously disturbed. Grumbling while listening to "Baby It's Cold Outside" in high pitched voices in my head, I put on the first Christmas movie of the season. Christmas Story was always funny and would hopefully brighten my mood. I realized I started the first movie later than I usually do, but I figured it wouldn't make much of a difference.
The phone in the office started to ring right at the sound of, "Oh fudge," in the movie. Who could possibly be calling me? And in the morning no less? "Hello?" I said.
"...Heather is that you?"
"Who is this?"
"I just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas, I know its a little early, but I don't know if I'll get the chance later."
"...Mom? Is that you?"
"I know it has been awhile but.."
"No, why would you think to call?! Oh wait, it's probably because you didn't think. What makes you think I want to talk to you after what happened?!"
"I want to say sorry."
"It's too late for that, goodbye."
I slammed down the phone, not waiting for another word. As tears begged to come rolling down my cheeks, I ran outside.
The blast of freezing air took my breath away as I opened the door. I wasn't going to cry, not now, all these years later. I glanced up at the icicles hanging off the edge of the marquee. If anything was going to ruin my holidays it wasn't going to be this. No, she would love that. "I'll just go get some popcorn and sit in the theater and watch the movie," I said to myself. It was always an escape then.
Trying to forget the phone call, I started to turn around back into the theater, when I saw a paper fly by on the sidewalk. My conscience told me to pick it up, save some poor bird or something I'm sure. I glanced down at what it said, it was a pamphlet from the other theater next door. COMING SOON: THE PRODUCERS was displayed across the top in big letters. Then it hit me. Literally. Stars started coming into my vision as I realized a large icicle had broken off and struck me. As more stars spotted my vision, I knew I was going down. The last thing I remember was a man walking towards me, mumbling something that sounded like Charlie Brown's teacher. "Maybe a Charlie Brown Christmas would be nice..."
I opened my eyes. I looked around. I could not remember a thing for the life of me. What was I doing here in this perfectly clean, white room. "Am I dead?"
"No darling of course not. Your in a hospital, lucky to be alive."
The voice came from a lady in the corner. Something seemed familiar about her, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. A man walked in, wearing a white coat, the doctor I assume.
"Do you remember anything?" he said.
I thought, and tried to remember.
"I don't know. What am I supposed to remember?"
"What's your name?"
"Heather, duh. I'm not stupid."
"Who is this woman."
"I don't know, I've never seen her."
"Heather, this is your mom."
