Love for Christmas

Emily Van Green was used to being alone, her mother didn't pay much attention to her, her father was dead, and all she wanted for Christmas was a friend, but she got so much more.


3. Flight or Fight?

Chapter Three: Flight or Fight?


Gregg returned me to my house after a full day of being together. This was I suppose the most wonderful day I've had since my father died. 


"Gregg, do you know you're the best thing that's ever happened to me?"


"No, but I do now. Emily do you know how much I love you? Its crazy we only met a few weeks ago, but its like I've known you all my life."


"Same here. So when are we going to New Hampshire?"


"I'm not sure."


"Well call me when you know, okay?" I kissed him goodbye and entered my house, happy for the first time on Christmas in years. 


"Emily?" The familiar, yet foreign voice of my mother came from the living room.


"Mom?" I entered the living room, where my mother was holding a framed picture of dad. "What's wrong?"


"I-I didn't know where you were."


"Like you suddenly care? This is the first time you've spoken to me in four years! The first thing you're going to do is punish me for going out and spending time with someone I love?"


"You were in the cemetery?"


"No, God you don't pay attention to me at all anymore do you? Gregg, my boyfriend he was here two weeks ago watching a movie with me. We've been together ever since. We have so much in common its like it was destined we meet. I love him, and he loves me. He gave me this locket, and I gave him plane tickets to New Hampshire to visit his mother's grave."


"Oh, Emily I'm so sorry. Its just that I've been so lost."


"I understand mom. Dad he was your one and only and he was ripped from your side too soon."


"That's no excuse for ignoring my only daughter the way I did."


"No. But you had your reasons, and I did fine on my own." 


"Yes you did, where did you get the sweater?"


"You bought it for me on one of your business trips."


"Oh, well Merry Christmas. When are you going to New Hampshire?"


"Gregg doesn't know yet." I went up the stairs, confused as to why my mother was suddenly speaking to me. I opened my door and went over to my desk. My sketch book laid open, a portrait of my father not yet done starred at me. I flipped the page as I sat down and started a new portrait, one of Gregg. I drew until I was certain it looked like Gregg; it even had his glistening eyes I thought. I sighed and closed the pad; the room was silent and gloomy; a side affect of having to hole up in this room for years to avoid contact with a mother too dazed to realize her daughter was even there. I jumped when my phone begin to ring; Gregg's ringtone blared from my pocket and I answered;


"Hey what's up?" There was no answer just frantic breathing.


"Emily. I've done something terrible. Something probably unforgivable."


"What? What did you do Gregg?" there was no answer,


"I-I was telling my dad I was making a trip to New Hampshire with my girlfriend and he-he wasn't paying attention. He was too busy talking with clients or whatever. I-I had enough and I grabbed his mail opener and lunged at him. I didn't mean to."


"Mean to do what?"


"I killed him! I killed my dad." I almost dropped the phone. 


"Did you call the police?"


"Why the hell would I call the police?"


"I don't know. You could say it was self defense or something."


"Yea and how do I explain why I'm scratch free?"


"Good point. Uh hurt yourself but not your face,"


"Okay. I'm not really into self-mutilation but if I must." He hung up and I dropped the phone.  Oh my God. My boyfriend just committed murder and I'm helping him? I called him back, 


"Don't hurt yourself, don't call the police, we'll go to New Hampshire. Put- Gregg's Trip to NH on today's date and we'll go alright?"


"Okay. Thanks for calling when you did,"


"No problem." I packed a bag full of clothes and dropped my phone inside, I hurried out of the house and ran off towards the direction of Gregg's home. Oh my God, what am I doing? I pulled out my phone and texted my mom;


'off to NH with Gregg. Don't know when we'll b back. Don't worry. luv Emily.' 


I stopped in his drive-way and Gregg came out with a bag in hand and the plane tickets in the back pocket of his jeans.


"Emily! Oh my God."


"Gregg its okay. Honest. I wouldn't be here if I wasn't going with you, if I didn't love you or trust you I wouldn't be protecting you."


"I love you Em."


"I love you too, now let's go. Hey, isn't that your dad's secretary's car?" I said noticing a blue ford focus.


"Yep, and by the sight of that snow, she's been here all night. Sick pervert."




"She's barely twenty." I noticed that she wasn't in the car; shit she could've heard everything, unless she was asleep.


"Where's your dad's bedroom?"


"Uh, on the first floor, two floor away from the office. She couldn't of heard anything."


"Good." I led him to his car and we drove off towards the airport. I couldn't believe I was flying to New Hampshire with a murderer. I sat back and played absentmindedly with the locket.


'Dad, where-ever you are, help me, help him find the light.'


"Emily, thank you again for helping me."


"No problem. I love you I wasn't about to abandon you."


"So what did you do at home?"


"Had an interesting conversation with my mom. Then drew a portrait of you."


"Really? I'm honored."


"You should be."


"What did you and your mom talk about?"


"Dad mostly."


"Oh, how is she taking it?"


"Horribly, just as I expected." The airport loomed up ahead and we grabbed our possessions. Gregg locked his car and pocketed the keys and the tickets. We made our way through airport security and boarded the plane. We sat in our seats, nervously awaiting take off.


"Listen, Emily I'm so sorry for tying you up in this mess."


"What's done is done Gregg. Just get some rest." Gregg asked for a pillow and fell asleep. I looked out the window and watched the pavement turned into clouds. I sighed and rested my head against the cool pressure poof glass of the window. The wings looked so out of place in the sky, so man made and mechanical next to the birds that kept a wary distance. They flew with majestic grace and certainty, while the plane had to be flown by two humans, and had to filled with a natural but man made substance. It was unnatural just like it was for me to be flying to New Hampshire with my boyfriend, hours after we exchanged gifts and an hour after he killed his father. I kept picturing Gregg's face as he killed Mr. Short in his office, somehow with the few details Gregg gave me, I could piece together the scene, how morbid it must've looked afterwords how panicked Gregg must've been. I shuddered and fell into a restless sleep.



What was the saying again? Fight or Flight? I suppose I did both. I fought for Gregg; protected him and then we flew into the night and disappeared to New Hampshire, the place of his birth, the place where his mother died, where she was buried and where she had been diagnosed. 

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