Behind Festive Facades

The door creaked as I stepped inside, the warmth of the house a welcome contrast to the chill outside. I kicked off my shoes and hung up my coat, my body moving on autopilot as I headed for the stairs. All I wanted was to collapse onto my bed and let the day fade into memory. My face still throbbed, and my mind felt like it had been spinning nonstop since the cafeteria incident.

“Wise?”

I froze mid-step, her voice stopping me cold. My mom never called out to me like that, not for a long while. It wasn’t like she cared what time I got home, or if I even came home at all. My fingers tightened on the banister, confusion knotting in my chest.

“Yeah?” I called back, trying to keep my tone neutral.

“Can you come here for a second?”

Reluctantly, I turned around and padded toward the living room. She was standing by the kitchen counter, wiping her hands on a towel. Her hair was tied back neatly, and there was something different about her—something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

“How was school?” she asked, her tone unusually soft.

I hesitated, my gaze dropping to the floor. “It was… eventful.”

“What happened?” Her voice carried a mix of curiosity and concern.

“Nothing,” I muttered, trying to brush it off as I walked closer.

“Wise,” she said more firmly, her tone edging into something unfamiliar—almost motherly. “What’s wrong?”

Before I could answer, she stepped forward, tilting my chin up with her hand. Her eyes locked onto mine, and the moment she saw the black eye, her expression shifted. She gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “Oh my God, what happened?”

“It’s nothing,” I said quickly, waving her off. “Just a nasty fall at school.”

Her hands moved to my shoulders, pulling me into a tight hug before I could protest. “You’ve got to be more careful, sweetheart.”

The word sweetheart hit me like a freight train. I stood there stiffly, caught off guard, but I didn’t pull away. Instead, I noticed something strange—she smelled… nice. Not like booze or stale perfume, but something soft and floral. My eyes darted around the room, and the strangeness only grew. The house was clean. The floors were spotless, and the furniture was neatly arranged. There was no smell of alcohol, no half-empty bottles littering the counter. Everything looked… normal.

“Mom?” I asked cautiously, pulling back slightly. “What’s going on?”

She smiled faintly, her eyes glossy. “I wanted to talk to you.”

I followed her into the living room, my confusion growing with each step. The room looked almost unrecognizable. The old couch, with its usual clutter of blankets and junk mail, was neat. The coffee table, once covered in magazines and sticky rings from cans, gleamed under the light. Even the faint scent of pine lingered in the air as if she’d lit a candle.

She gestured for me to sit, and I obeyed, sinking into the couch as she sat down beside me. She fidgeted with her hands, her gaze fixed on them as if she were working up the courage to speak.

“Wise,” she began, her voice trembling slightly, “I know Christmas hasn’t been easy for you. It hasn’t been easy for either of us.”

I stayed silent, unsure of where this was going.

She swallowed hard, her hands clutching the towel like a lifeline. “Your dad… He’s around most of the year, and I—I always focused on the one time he wasn’t. Every December, I let that anger get to me. I let it… consume me.”

My chest tightened. I kept my eyes on her hands, refusing to look up.

“I blamed him for not being here, but the truth is Wise…” Her voice broke, and she covered her mouth for a moment before continuing, “I should have been grateful for the time we do have. He’s here 98% of the year, and I let that 2% ruin everything. I let it ruin Christmas. For you.”

Her words hit me like a gut punch, and I felt my throat close up. I clenched my fists, trying to keep my composure, but the sting in my eyes betrayed me.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice cracking as tears began to roll down her cheeks. “I’ve made December hell for you for years. I was so caught up in my bitterness that I didn’t see what I was doing to you. You deserved better, Wise. You deserved a mother who made Christmas special, not one who ruined it.”

She reached out, taking my hand in hers. Her grip was warm, and steady despite her trembling fingers. “I’m going to change,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I promise. No more fighting, no more bitterness. I want to make it better—for both of us.”

Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, and I bit my lip hard, trying to stay stoic. But her words cracked something inside me, and before I could stop myself, my vision blurred. She pulled me into another hug, her sobs muffled against my shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, Wise,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

I hesitated for a moment, my body stiff and unresponsive. But then, slowly, I raised my arms and hugged her back. My throat burned as the tears finally spilled over, and I pressed my face into her shoulder, hoping she couldn’t see.

“It’s okay,” I said quietly, my voice shaking. “It’s okay.”

Inside, my heart was soaring. I couldn’t remember the last time she’d hugged me like this—like she cared. Like she saw me. For the first time in years, it felt like maybe things could be normal again.

But as I opened my eyes, something caught my attention. My bag sat on the floor across the room, and hanging from the zipper was the Santa Claus keychain.

Except… it wasn’t the same.

The face was smiling wider now, the grin sharper, almost… sinister. My breath hitched, and a cold chill ran down my spine.

I blinked, and the smile was normal again.

“Wise?” my mom said, pulling back to look at me. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “I’m fine.”

But as I hugged her again, my gaze lingered on the keychain, unease curling in the pit of my stomach. Something wasn’t right.

▪▪▪

I groaned, staring at the math problem like it was written in an alien language. Why did they even call it math when there were more letters than numbers? My pen twirled lazily in my hand before slipping and clattering onto the desk. I leaned back in my chair, ruffling my hair in frustration. “Great. Now math’s winning too.”

My laptop pinged. I glanced over to see Luca’s name flashing on the screen. He’d sent me a series of frantic messages. Frowning, I pushed my chair back and grabbed my phone, figuring now was a good time to take a break. Dropping onto my bed, I opened the messages.

Luca: DUDE
Luca: Are you seeing this?
Luca: Tell me you’re looking outside right now.
Luca: WISE!!

I blinked. “What the hell’s he freaking out about?” Before I could reply, another notification lit up my phone. This time it was Belle.

Belle: Wise, are you seeing this?
Belle: Look outside!!!

I sat up, confusion tugging at my mind. Belle lived just down the street, so it made sense she’d notice something happening outside. But if Luca could see it too… how big was this thing?

Just as I started typing a reply, a video call notification popped up on my phone. It was from Belle, and Luca was already in the group. I hesitated for half a second before accepting.

Belle’s face filled the screen first, framed by her loose hair and reading glasses. She was in her pajamas, a pen twirling idly in one hand as she adjusted her phone with the other. My brain short-circuited for a moment—she looked… different. In a good way.

“Wise!” Luca’s shout snapped me out of it. “Stop staring and look outside!”

“Yeah!” Belle chimed in, waving her pen at me. “Come on, Wise, hurry up!”

“What’s going on?” I asked, standing and walking toward the window. “You guys are being so—”

“Just look!” Luca interrupted, his voice urgent.

I muttered something under my breath about how dramatic they were being and yanked open the curtains. My breath caught in my throat, and for the first time that night, I was speechless.

The sky was blood red, crackling with lightning that illuminated the clouds like glowing veins. Snow and Christmas ornaments rained from above, swirling in a surreal, glittering storm. Strings of Christmas lights twinkled among the clouds, shifting and twisting as if alive.

“What the hell…?” I whispered, barely able to process what I was seeing.

“Right?” Belle’s voice came through the phone, tinged with excitement. “Isn’t it insane?”

Luca’s face was wide-eyed on my screen. “It’s gotta be some kind of crazy special effect, right? Like, maybe there’s a movie being filmed or something?”

“No way,” I said, shaking my head. “Nothing could be this big. It’s covering the whole block—probably the whole town.”

The three of us deliberated, throwing out theories as we stared at the spectacle. But then, as suddenly as it had started, the sky went dark. The blood-red hue faded, the lightning vanished, and the ornaments stopped falling. The moon hung overhead, serene and pale like nothing had happened.

“Well, that was disappointing,” Belle muttered, her excitement deflating.

“That was the craziest shit I’ve ever seen,” Luca said, shaking his head. “Hands down.”

Belle tilted her head, smiling faintly. “The coolest thing I’ve ever seen.”

I was still staring at the sky, struggling to process it all. “Strange,” I said finally. “Strange.”

A voice in the background of Belle’s video called her name, and she turned, waving. “Gotta go,” she said, blowing a quick kiss at the camera. “Night, boys!”

The call ended, leaving Luca and me alone. Luca smirked, leaning toward the camera. “That was definitely for me.”

“Keep dreaming,” I shot back, earning a laugh before we both signed off.

I closed the curtains and walked back to my desk, hoping to finish my homework and shake the image of that sky from my mind. But my thoughts refused to quiet. What was that? How was that even possible? I moved through the motions of solving equations, but my focus was elsewhere.

There was a knock on my door, and my mom walked in, holding a plate of cookies and a glass of milk. “Hey,” she said softly, setting them down on the corner of my desk. “Everything okay?”

I hesitated, glancing at her. “Yeah,” I said finally. “Why?”

“I saw the sky earlier,” she said, her voice calm but laced with concern. “It was… something, wasn’t it?”

I nodded slowly. “It was something, yeah. But I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

She smiled, pulling me into a quick hug and kissing the top of my head. “Okay. Just checking.” With that, she left the room, her presence leaving behind a strange warmth.

I stared at the cookies for a moment before turning back to my books. My pen moved across the page, but my mind was still on that sky. The ornaments, the lightning, the blood-red clouds… It had to mean something. I thought about the book, the ritual, and the keychains. The pieces were there, but I couldn’t fit them together yet.

Frustrated, I shoved my books aside and grabbed my phone. Opening Belle’s chat, I typed quickly:

Wise: Bring the book to school tomorrow. I think I’ve got something.

Just as my eyes grew heavy, her reply popped up:

Belle: Okay 😊

With that, I let myself drift off, the image of the cursed sky burned into my mind.