Goth Christmas Sweater Novels & Stories

Even though I didn’t get any presents on my birthday after that, Richfield always made sure to give me a fifty percent increment of my allowance for the month, and he always gave it to me on my birthday. I never really use the money, but I appreciate the gesture. I uncover the box to sate my curiosity, and am surprised to find a baby blue cashmere sweater in the box, but it’s not just any cashmere sweater, it’s one that I’ve heard Penelope talking about for sometime, it’s the same Italic Emma Cashmere Relaxed Turtleneck Sweater that Penelope has been going crazy about because it’s limited edition or something and will go out of stock soon. King bought the sweater that Penelope wanted for me.

Thank you very much love. I simultaneously open my eyes as a cry escapes my mouth, and reach out a hand for the cherry-shaded sweater with the number 24 printed in the middle. The mug and the sweater are genuine, I'm not imagining it and that makes me feel abuse in my chest. Without giving up the little infinity, I bring the sweater closer to my face and take a deep breath. It smells like nuts and mint, it smells like him, similar to Melido; I know in my heart that this is the way it smells.

But she is excited by the musical storybooks, throwing her arms around me as she thanks me. “Your turn,” Chris smiles at me. I am touched to see wrapped gifts from Paris and his mother and have to swallow back tears, still stunned that I have gone from being almost homeless, to not just celebrating Christmas in a lovely home, but being presented gifts as well. I smile at the self-love workbook from Paris and the scented candle set from Mrs. Patrick, but it is the beautiful, pastel blue cashmere sweater from Chris and Muna that melts my heart. “Because we noticed you like blue,” he says, smiling at me.

I stopped them, beaming like an idiot, “Merry Christmas you guys!” I picked out my white sweater with red and black wave like design knitted on it, wearing black tights and grey boots underneath, a grey cap, golden watch and matching earring tops. I did some fresh make up, which includes, light blush on, lipstick, eyebrow darker and mascara. Always! I went outside in high spirits. Ron and Andy were playing rock paper scissors. Are you kidding me? We sat in Andy’s car we were off to the Hunts. He took a left.

This had to be Yuyu Roman. I grabbed the tacky sweater I'd bought a couple of days earlier—a red and green monstrosity with a giant, flashing reindeer nose in the middle—and yanked it over my head. Ugly fashion was sometimes good fashion, I justified. At least that's what I kept telling myself as I yanked on a pair of black pants that had fewer stitches than holes.

That's when Alice, under the table, pushed a small package wrapped in red paper toward me. "It's for you," she said, softly. "What? Why?" "Because you gave me a gingerbread cookie. And because it's Christmas." I opened the package carefully, feeling ridiculously touched. Inside was a gray wool sweater, soft and thick. Simple. Practical. Exactly something I would wear. "I saw it in the ranch gift shop," she explained, a bit nervous. "Rosa said you always complain yours are old. I hope it fits." I held the sweater, the soft fabric between my rough fingers. No one gave me gifts like this. Nothing so… thoughtful.

I'm pretty sure that when I get home, my window ladder won't be there anymore. "Alright, honey. Sure, you and dad can get donuts together. Heavens knows it's early enough. Is that a Grumpy Cat sweater you're wearing? You must have gone to see Brittany, no way you'd go visit your boyfriend wearing that ugly outfit." "Thanks, mom, now I feel super attractive," I say with defense. "It's a hideous sweater. Why did I buy you that? We can try again. We can get you another Christmas sweater. Maybe a reindeer or elf one."