HE GOT A GIFT

"Fey, it is Christmas today."

I turned on the torn wrapper I had laid on the floor and glanced into the tired eyes of my brother. He sat on the bare floor with his legs crossed. His ten-year-old body looked like a beaten-down forty-year-old's. I am sure I looked worse than he did.

I looked around and noticed that it was still dark. Several other people were clustered around, some asleep, others sitting and staring into space. The putrid scent of alcohol and cigarettes clung to the air like a leech, refusing to come off.

“Why are you awake?” I asked, returning my gaze to my brother.

“Because it is Christmas.”

“Okay?”

He remained silent, obviously lacking an answer to my obvious question. His inability to answer must have upset him, because the next thing I saw was tears in his eyes.

I climbed to a sitting position and looked at him worriedly.

“What is wrong?”

He refused to answer, instead giving the tears permission to fall. I stayed there, glued to the floor, staring at the only family member I have in the entire world.

“Okay, okay,” I said, trying to pacify him. “Merry Christmas.”

He turned to me and smiled. I smiled back in return.

“Today will be different," he said. “It is Christmas.”

We had spent the last ten Christmases together, and it had never been different, so I wondered what he thought was going to be different about the day. It wasn’t until later, when his body was laid down into the cold ground, that I realized just how different that Christmas was.

Finally, he was free. He got a gift.

“Merry Christmas,” I whispered, trying in vain to hold back the tears.