It's Christmas morning when I feel myself being tackled off my bed. With a loud shout, I, and whoever dared assault me in my sleep, tumble to the floor. The giggling is familiar. I can't seem to place it, though I know I have heard it before.

"Good morning, sweetheart! Time to get up!"

Ah… it's Mom… I don't know how I couldn't recognize her immediately. Guess I am not fully awake so my senses are for shit. Yawning, I stretch out on the floor, still not bothering to get up though. "Oo arlly..." What did I even say?

"There is no such thing as too early on Christmas!" How Mom managed to understand me with my face in the carpet I do not understand. Must be a mother thing. And how come she is the one waking me up? Aren't the kids supposed to wake their parents up on Christmas? Something is wrong here.

I stopped doing that when I was 10, after I realized that the presents really aren't going anywhere. I would go to sleep like I always did and wake up whenever my parents would get tired of waiting for me. They are more excited about my opening of presents than I am. Must be another parent thing...

Mom ushers me to get ready. She even gets me out a pair of clothes while I'm taking a shower. Normally I would toss what she picked out back into the closet and grab whatever I wanted to wear, but I figured it's Christmas, what the hell, I'll humor her. It's not like she picked out something weird like she usually does.

She laid out a simple pair of gray sweats and a navy hoodie. I throw both on and tiredly make my way down to our living room where a very large amount of presents await me. I smile upon seeing both my parents waiting for me on the couch. Mom giggles, holding out her camera like she always does on Christmas. She takes pictures nonstop Christmas morning and always makes sure to print them out and add them to her collection.

Dad is on the floor next to the presents, ready to hand them out to their proper owner. Christmas is a day where my dad has no work whatsoever. He doesn't read over papers or sign bills or read up on what is happening in the world. On Christmas it is 100% family time. We open gifts, play with them all day and deep into the night. It's the only time of the year where such a thing like this happens. I really love Christmas.

It doesn't take us all very long to rip into our presents. Mom makes sure to get a picture of me with each gift I unwrap. She does the same with my father. She then makes me take pictures of her opening her presents. There's a lot of them and it takes some time to get through them all, but exhaustion never sets in. We're having too much fun to be tired.

We have an amazing Christmas lunch, because I told them never to wake me up before 10 or I might die of sleep deprivation, before we spend the rest of the day together watching movies and messing with our new gizmos and gadgets. Dad got me a plane that I'm currently flying around the living room, paying no mind to what's on TV. Instead, I'm focused on the plane I have circling the chandelier.

"Honey, how do I change the background?" Dad asks with his glasses perched on his nose.

"Oh my, you really are clueless when it comes to phones, aren't you?" Mom giggles. I watch her try to attempt to explain to dad how to work his new phone. He always had that stupid flip phone, saying he didn't need a new one because his secretary carried around all kinds of gadgets. We finally managed to talk him into getting an iPhone so he could try to keep track of a few things himself.

I roll my eyes at the two of them. But the more I look at them the more I wonder… what could my father do to make me want to burn him off a picture? Ugh, stop thinking about it. Quinton is a pain in the ass. Why should I care? Why am I even thinking about that? How did it even come about?

I keep telling myself not to care but I can't help but think about it… Not just the picture, but about him.

What is he doing right now? Is he at the dorms? Did he decide to head home after all and visit his family? What is his mother doing? What about his father? Does he even have a family other than his mother? Is he opening his presents? If he's still at the dorm, did he even get any presents? Is he the type of guy to even celebrate Christmas?

Is he lonely?

Ah, I don't care, I don't care, I don't care!

Maybe I should have stayed?