Christmas Time Is Killing Us Novels & Stories

My mother, Dustin, and I would be free to live our lives without the fear of his power looming over us. Killian leaned in to kiss me fiercely. “You’re so fucking sexy when you talk revenge.” I found it in me to laugh in embarrassment, then sobered just as quickly. “But I don’t want to be there. Christmas Eve is still special to me, and I want to keep it that way. I want to make sure Dustin and Michael know it’s special. This holiday is about birth, not death.” Killian nodded, then cupped my cheek in his hand. “Are you sure? You mentioned that you wanted to kill him yourself.”

But now, he was completely different. I hated getting lost in my thoughts so much, plunging into a whirlwind of memories and feelings that seemed to consume me entirely. And in that moment, I realized how I was starting to hate Christmas, a time that used to be filled with light and joy, was turning into a personal nightmare. I had nothing to celebrate, nothing to be grateful for; the essence of Christmas seemed to have evaporated from my life, leaving only a deep void. There was no reason to smile, not even a sweet memory to warm my heart.

Karter "Don't you just love Christmas?" Marie asks dreamily staring at the ceiling above us. "it's alright." I say. Marie turns to me with a harsh glare, "What do you mean "it's alright" it's the best time of the year!" Marie exclaims. "Just because they say that in a song doesn't mean Christmas is the best time of the year babe." "Whatever. When the spirits of Christmas come and haunt you in your sleep, you'll be a believer."

Far enough that, hopefully, they won't spot Ross. I walk briskly, my footsteps click-clicking down empty streets. It's not that late, but the cold is keeping people indoors and, after all, Christmas is coming. Most folks will be with friends, at parties or simply at home in the warm. I pass windows brightly lit, glowing with warmth and welcome, sparkling with fairy lights, dressed with spray-on snow and Santa, Please Stop Here signs. In my own home, we never finished the trimming up. Charlotte's abduction killed off any thoughts of celebration and our tree stands half-decorated and dismal.

"We'll see. It's not like a small woman like me can force two hunks like you to do anything against their wills, right? Instead of answering, I kiss her, drowning out her laughter. And true enough, my cock isn't the only part of me already looking forward to this. I'm not surprised that once the emotional roller coaster that was our Thanksgiving weekend is over, the days leading up to Christmas seem to zoom by. Maybe it's also because those days are among the best I've had in a very long time, even though at times I feel a little guilty about it. One thing I'm not surprised at is how easily Jazz integrates himself into our daily lives again. In

"It's so beautiful outside. I love how everybody did the lights in the city." Lacing his fingers with mine, Neal cast his gaze out the window to see what it was that I was seeing. A smile crept across his face as he pulled me close. "Did you know that Christmas was actually my favorite time of year as a child?" "Why is that?" I grinned, glancing at him. "Because you got tons of presents?" "No." He chuckled to himself. "It's because it was the one time of year that everybody seemed happy and seemed to be brought together. There was no fighting. No arguing. Everyone just smiled."

“And I may just end up killing both of you.” “Can we not talk about stuff like that right now?” I asked, lowering my gaze to my food. Christmas was just a few days away, and I would spend it with my family, trying to pretend everything was perfectly normal.

No Christmas tree, lights, presents, Christmas dinner, stockings, gingerbread houses, or even a sweets stick. We have both lived with a horrendous past yet special times of year were just plain terrible. We never celebrated on the grounds that I didn't maintain that she should recall the horrendous occasions which occurred when that should be the greatest days of all time. I explained to Daisy about special times of year after we got comfortable in the living room. Since we were away from him, I believed she should experience what these occasions ought to be like. Hours pass and it's five pm now. Daisy and I wrapped up preparing our thanksgiving dinner and are at present watching Charlie Bro

Twelve The trauma of losing her loved ones in a single day had irrevocably changed her perception of Christmas Day. The once joyful season had become a truly somber reminder of the tragedy that had befallen her. The sight of snow, a symbol of peace and tranquility, now filled Florence with nothing but absolute horrifying dread, a haunting reminder of the loss that she had endured.

One year later. The house was filled with the soft glow of Christmas lights, their gentle hues dancing across the living room. Emily and Vincent had transformed their home into a cozy haven, with garlands, twinkling lights, and an extravagant Christmas tree that sparkled from every angle. The scent of cinnamon and pine mingled in the air as holiday music played softly in the background, creating a festive, heartwarming atmosphere. This Christmas, their first as a married couple, felt like the beginning of something truly beautiful, a peaceful moment carved from the chaos they’d left behind.