Silent Night

The last leaf had fallen off the last tree when she woke. The sun was showing bright that day, leaving her long, golden hair glimmering. It had been four days now. And her brother had visited her all four of those days. Her parents refused to see her, ashamed of themselves for letting this happen to her. Her brother was the reason she was there, and even he could swallow his shame and care for his little sister. Twice a day he visited her, once before breakfast, and once after dinner, neither of which she could keep in her stomach either way. Each time he brought her something. She ignored the thought he was only doing this because he felt sorry. She tried to imagine herself before the accident, before she was sent to a hospital to sit in a white bed with white sheets. She tried to imagine herself laughing with her parents and her brother, not being rolled off to some small room once a day at least to be cut open and experimented with. She looked at her teddy bear and imagined herself as that plush toy. She wouldn’t feel pain, she wouldn’t be bedridden. She would be whole again, just like she was before a silver car ran a red light and slammed into her brother’s car. Why did she have to be in that car? Where was that silver car going so fast it just had to run that red light?

Suddenly she heard a knock on the door. Hiding her toy under the sheets, she pretended to sleep as a small voice was heard through the opening door.

“She’s right in here son. Don’t be too long now. She still has breakfast in an hour.” The small voice closed the door, and heavy footsteps walked towards her, ending as someone sat on the white sheets by her side. She had only been there four days and they had been the worst four days of her short life. She lived a nightmare, always frightened of her cruel nurses, of surgeries they claimed were helping her, but most of all, she was afraid of dying. She could imagine most anything, but not dying in a hospital where the doctors torture her, cutting her open without anesthetics or where the nurses starve her, abuse her, and violate her. Every day she was terrified, helpless, and alone. She stayed still, hoping the stranger wouldn’t touch her.

“Are you asleep, or are you acting again?” She heard her brother’s voice and turned over, relieved, looking up at his bright blue eyes and bushy black hair. His head was still wrapped up and he had bandages up and down his arms. “Any better today?” She shook her head. She had tried to speak before, but her voice no longer seemed to work. She wondered if it was because of the accident, or because the hospital had ripped her voice out to keep her from telling anybody about the viciousness of it. Her brother reached into his bag and pulled out a small necklace. Hanging from the silver chain was a diamond cross. She recognized this cross from years ago. It was her mothers, who had gotten it from her mother. “I found this in mom’s room. Don’t you remember it?” She nodded again. “I knew you would. I wanted to give it to you to keep with you while you’re here. But keep promise, I will find a way to get you out of here.” She got an idea then. The little girl slowly reached under her bed, carefully as not to further injure herself, and pulled out a magazine her brother had gotten her the second morning. She slowly flipped through the colorful pages looking for something she had found the night before. Soon, she showed her brother a picture of the Town Tree. Christmas was in a few days, and all this little girl wanted was to be with her brother in front of the largest tree. All she wanted was to put a present under it and an ornament on it. Her brother nodded. “You want me to take you to see it.” She smiled. “You always have been full of good ideas. I’ll be here Christmas Day.” The small voice peered her head in the door, telling her brother to leave, and that it was time for her breakfast. Her brother put the magazine in his bag and winked at her. He said goodbye and left. The nurse walked him out as she hid her necklace under her pillow. It would be the only thing she had left of her mother. She could not let the hospital have it. The small voice came back in with her breakfast.

“Eat up. And I know that boy is bringing you things. Where are they, hm? Are you hiding them? You’re lucky I even let that pathetic boy visit you. Don’t push your luck.” The small voice wasn’t very small anymore. The nurse’s eyes wandered to her pillowcase. “What is that?” The little girl noticed she left the chain of her necklace hanging out. Anger rose inside her tiny body as the nurse snatched her mother’s necklace up and roughly shook it in her small, terrified face. “I knew it!” She slapped the girl’s face and shook her. “What do you think this is, runt? A daycare? This is a hospital!” The nurse looked at the tray of slop and shot the girl a look. “You don’t deserve to eat.” The nurse threw the necklace at the girl’s face, picked up the tray of slop, and walked out a slamming door. The small, angered, terrified girl curled up with her teddy bear, clutched her necklace and cried. She wondered why the hospital had to be so brutal and why she was there. She wondered why that silver car had to run a red light and hit her brother’s car. She prayed and prayed, but nothing changed. God had abandoned her.

The next few days were the same. She saw her brother twice a day, once before her horrific encounter with her nurse, and once after her unnecessary surgery. She no longer had a voice, and even if she did, she would be too terrified to tell her brother the cruel treatment of the hospital. But the night before Christmas Eve, she looked at him with pleading eyes, making sure he would not leave her in that place alone. He did not come before breakfast the next day. She had nothing to warm her heart when listening to the nurse’s harsh voice. He did not come after dinner that night. She had nothing but the searing pain of her surgery to dream about. She cried herself to sleep that night.

Christmas was a time of joy, love, and happiness. Kids running downstairs to find presents under the tree. Parents waking up to light snow falling outside. Families gathered around a warm turkey for a Christmas feast. The little girl had none of this. She had no Christmas tree, no presents. She had no parents, no light snow falling outside her window. She would have no turkey, no Christmas feast. She only had her white sheets on her little, white bed. She could have no visitors today, and she would have no cruel nurse. She would be alone.

Hours had passed since the sunset. She put her mother’s necklace on in the dark, waiting for her only hope in the world. Suddenly, she heard a knock on her window. Bright blue eyes and bushy black hair opened the window.

“Are you ready?” he whispered. She nodded. Her brother came and picked her up like a princess. He carefully helped her out the window and carried her down the street. When they got to the small path in front of the tree it began to snow. The light snow made her open her eyes, and what she saw made her eyes water. The leafless trees were covered in lights, and the light snow fell in the dark night sky. As they came to the tree, the little girl felt her heart fill with joy. She took her necklace off and hung it on the lowest branch she could. The little girl had a family to share her joy with, and she had a Christmas tree to put an ornament on. She had light snow falling around her. The night truly was peaceful and silent. The girl fell asleep in her brother's arms on the way back to the hospital. By the time they arrived, the girl’s heart no longer beat, and her lungs no longer breathed. This girl would have no funeral, no obituary, only a brother who would cry over her and blame himself for what he has done to his little sister. The boy did not leave her lifeless body in the cold, empty, dark hospital. The boy carried her small, limp body home. He carried her to her parents, who would blame him for her death, who would not cry over her as he would. He would bury her in his yard, not knowing what to do with her. He would build a small cross and kneel before it, weeping. He would stagger into his car drunk and run a red light, hitting a silver car. He may have been drunk, but he knew exactly what he was doing. He wanted to hear her voice one last time. He wanted to hold her and comfort her, telling her everything will be all right. The silver car had taken that from him, and now he would take it from the car in return. He knew he would take his own life in doing so, and he knew he would see his sister again.