“Up, up! Time to go, Lyla!” My mother screeched from the other side of my bedroom door. I opened my eyes and groaned groggily, rolling onto my back in my tangled sheets. Glancing at the clock on my nightstand, I saw it was barely seven a.m. “Mom!” I whined. “It’s Saturday! This is way too early, even for you!” Taking my response as an invitation, my bedroom door swung upon and my mom hurried inside. “I told you we’d be heading out early today, Lyla. Come on, get up, we’ve got a lot to get before this evening.” With that, she hurried out of my room once more, leaving the door wide open, knowing it would drive me crazy. I briefly considered snuggling back in my covers for an extra 10 minutes, but quickly thought better of the idea. Like me, my mom is impatient, and today would be worse than usual. I showered and dressed with the speed of lightning, pulling my still wet brown hair into a messy bun on top of my head, and 20 minutes later my mom and I were at the biggest Christmas shopping center just outside our relatively small town. Even though I felt like I’d been dragged out at the crack of dawn, the aisles were full escort of shoppers, aggressively trying to find the perfect baubles for their Christmas trees. I had to admit, everything was gorgeous. Fairy lights twinkled in every direction, artificial trees in all colors lined the floors, and children were everywhere, touching the fragile ornaments and gazing open mouthed at all the decorations in their splendour. “I still don’t get why you dragged me along to this,” I said through a yawn. “Or why you waited until December 20th to get our decorations.” I watched as a young boy snapped a candy cane in half, looked around in horror then quickly ran away. My mother was busy throwing every sparkly object she could find into our cart. “Because, your brother hasn’t been home since he got that ridiculous idea to spend his summer ‘exploring’ with those friends of his,” she placed a handful of gold and silver star shaped baubles into the cart. “I wanted us to actually put the tree up all together this year. I made Matthew promise he won’t be hungover so he has no excuse this year.” I grinned at the memory of last Christmas. bayan escort My brother had gotten trashed with his friends the day before he was supposed to help us decorate, he barely left the couch and offered only grunts and moans as conversation. “and you won’t be antisocial either this year,” Mom continued. “No reading books when were decorating, I want us all to do it as a family again, like when your dad was here.” I suppressed the groan that was building inside me at the mention of my dad. It had been four years since he had died, I was only fourteen and took it hard, but Matthew went completely crazy. He and dad were so close, It destroyed a part of him. Stressful holiday shopping over, mom and I returned home with our many bags. We’d practically bought the entire store. I was put to work right away to make my family famous cookies while she made up Matthew’s room. Even though he was now 22 and at college, he was definitely still the apple of my mom’s eye. His room was left mainly unchanged from the moment he left for college at eighteen, except now it wasn’t so littered with his crap that escort bayan you could see the floorboards. Feeling in the holiday spirit, I decided to play some Christmas music. I had just taken my first batch of cookies from the oven and was mixing the second bowl of dough, singing to ‘Baby It’s Cold Outside’ when I felt a pair of arms slip around my waist. “Still tone-deaf then La-La?” A deep, masculine voice murmured in my ear. I shrieked and turned in around to see my big brother, grinning profusely. Like always, my brother looked incredible. He always was the object of my friends’ sexual fantasies. His cheeks were flushed slightly pink from the chilly December air, and his dark hair was the perfect mix of styled and messy, though I believe he just rolled out of bed with it that way. His eyes, which were a perfect, striking green, unlike my dull dark green eyes were shining with happiness. “Matthew!” I screamed, throwing my arms around his neck. He responded immediately, circling his arms around my waist and lifting my slightly from the floor. I buried my face in his neck, inhaling his scent. “I’ve missed you,” I murmured into his skin. It was true. Even though as kids we’d had the typical ‘we-hate-each-other’ sibling relationship, as we’d gotten into our teens, and after the death of our father, Matthew became someone I could confide in and trust.