Booktok Ornament Novels & Stories

She had bought it the year she graduated, so there was no need to rush around looking for a place to stay. There really was not much to pack. Aside from the sleeping pills in the drawer, a few books she loved, and some changes of clothes, she did not want anything else. But when she stopped in front of her desk and saw the small white fox ornament sitting there, her eyes instantly reddened. The ornament looked old, its surface slightly yellowed with age. The fox’s ears, however, were smooth and polished, clearly worn down from being touched over and over. To be honest, it looked more like a chubby puppy than a fox.

Wink, wink. (Vera) I saw Orna's body going still in my arms as her eyes stared straight into mine. There was no anger left in her eyes, and mine, as well. I gently closed her eyes as I looked at her. I could hear her softly reading the stories to me. Soft and gentle. Her eyes would always be fierce though. I remembered the marks on that special book. She called it her special book. I had never seen a book like that anywhere else. One time when I asked Orna about it, she said there was no other book like this in the entire universe.

It's the only reason I'm going this far for a bracelet from him. He opens the door, turns on the lights, and moves to light the fireplace, warming the room. "I’ll be right back," he says before disappearing into another room. Left alone, curiosity draws me to the shelves adorned with minor sculptures and a stack of old, peculiar books tucked away in a corner. Their rare content suggests lengths gone to for their acquisition. There are no family pictures or any sign of a pet. Curiosity leads me to a book, and as I flip through the pages, a small bronze token with an intricate design falls out. Recognizing it the moment it catches the firelight, I'm intrigued.

The long awaited puppet is now here. I stood up from the bed and meets him halfway, offering him a soft smile before summoning something from my hands. He watches intently, only to see that I now held a gold feather ornament in the palm of my hand. I place the ornament around his neck, like what I did almost months ago — except this time, I wasn’t putting it on air but to him. “This ornament signifies your connection to me, Marina Edwards and Nina Faceli,” I told him, it was an ornament I costum made just for him. It was gift to him that will remain forever.

An hour later, we finished going over everything. As Marcus packed up his things, he pulled out a small box and handed it to me. "This is for you." I took the box and opened it. Inside was a delicate silver bookmark, engraved with a tiny flower. "It's beautiful," I said with a smile. "Thanks, Mr. Perfect." His ears turned red as he replied, "You're welcome. I just saw it and thought it was perfect for you, so I bought it."

The snow keeps falling, heavy and suffocating. When I finally gather enough courage to walk home, my nerves are shredded. My thoughts got tangled. My chest tightened I reach my doorstep, fumbling for my keys. And there,lying on my welcome mat—is something small, wooden, and dusted with snow. A Christmas ornament. Hand-carved. Shaped like a house.Burning. A single number etched into its back: 24 The countdown has begun.