Shivers

You're in a small house. Warmth and wood and light surrounds you. It's a little bit loud with all the people buzzing about. You don't mind though. The evening is too optimistic to bring down with thoughts of silence. Weeks have been spent mourning, but not tonight. Tonight you'll dance.

Everyone is hurrying to hang up decorations and string together lights. Apple pie is being baked in the kitchen. You smell it. Everyone smells it. It's both torturous and pleasant. You can only bear the wait because you know it can only bake for so long. Soon you'll taste it, only to forget about the wait. So you decide to enjoy the wait.

It's a beautiful night inside. Outside, the wind is howling and swirling around the tiny home. Trees rise up and glower at the house. It's a brave, little cabin sitting all alone in a forest of trees. Daring to shine out into the night, it attracts all sorts of attention. The wind batters it. The rain soaks it. The moon glares and growls.

You walk over to the frosty window to check on the moon. Just to make sure she's playing fair and minding her own business. Something catches your eye. A shape in the snow. The shape is red and curled up and shivering. It's alone.

The shape is a boy. The party is for him. He knows that. He planned the party mostly alone. The boy is sitting out in the snow expectantly. He's waiting to see headlights. No, he's straining to see headlights. Peering around trees and hoping to see light soon, he's practically bouncing. Mostly, he shivers though. He shivers a lot.

The boy wouldn't think of heading inside. He wouldn't dream of hanging up his coat. How could he? The headlights are coming soon and he must be ready when they do. Others will attend to the party. They'll set it up. But who else can wait for the headlights? No one but him.

The boy waited hours and hours. Night was dragging by. Finally, the smell of apple pie dragged him inside by the ankles. He flung off his jacket and sunk into his favorite sofa. Before he could think of pie, sleep took him. And sleep took him for a while. Not too long though. Sleep never takes him for too long.

His eyes shot open at strange lights. Headlights shone on his ceiling. He leapt up, not seeing the party. He was out the door and in the air. His feet hit the snow, toes tingling. The car was here. The lights were here.

I am the boy.