Fallen Christmas | Teen Ink

Fallen Christmas

December 26, 2013
By ChristinKarr GOLD, Solana Beach, California
ChristinKarr GOLD, Solana Beach, California
16 articles 0 photos 1 comment

Favorite Quote:
"If you want to change the world, pick up your pen and write." Martin Luther


This story is about a girl, and a great love for Christmas, and a tragic event that changed everything. The girl’s name was Laura. Laura was a very kind, and loving girl, and she was the very opposite of accident prone, she never got even so much as a paper cut. Now this is not to say that Laura was crazy or super careful all the time, she was normal whatever that is these days. Laura’s parents John and Patricia were all about the holidays, they did all the lights, the cookies, the cheer, everything. Laura was an only child, although she was loved, she was not spoiled, her parents were very proud of her, and she knew it. Laura lived in an apartment complex, a high class apartment complex, one where everyone knew each other and lived in harmony.

The day of Christmas Eve was finally upon the family, Laura loved Christmas, not because of all the presents but because of how people changed during the holiday season everyone seemed nicer, happier, and love was constantly in the air. Laura was doing her rounds delivering holiday desserts to everyone in the complex, even the new comers. Although the complex was rather large and it took a lot of effort to bring desserts to everyone in one day, Laura enjoyed doing it and most of the residents would invite her in for a while, so she took breaks here and there, although she always took extra care of her holiday basket of goodies. Laura’s best friend, Jennifer lived in the apartment just down the way, Laura always made sure that it was her last stop so that she could stay there the longest. This Christmas Eve was no different than the rest, Laura stayed at Jennifer’s house until around eight o’clock, and then she headed back to her apartment. She hugged everyone goodbye as she always did, and then started to walk back home alone, when all of a sudden she felt a sharp pain in her chest, and fell to the ground.

Laura had been shot, she lay on cold cement for hours hoping someone would come, praying someone would see her, or notice she wasn’t there. Laura had passed out from the pain half an hour later, but the time still passed slowly, as she lay dying a little more each minute. Meanwhile her parents had family over, her grandparents, her aunts and uncles, her cousins most of her family was there yet no one seemed to notice that she wasn’t. When ten o’clock came her parents thought she probably just lost track of time and stayed later at Jennifer’s, but Laura always paid close attention to the clock, she was rarely ever late. Laura’s mother had a strange feeling most of the night, but chose to ignore it, her father John decided to call Jennifer’s parents Brett and Melinda when eleven o’clock rolled around. The phone rang only a few moments before Brett picked it up, “Hello.” He said in a cheery voice. “Hi Brett, it’s John, would you mind sending Laura back it’s getting kind of late and we were going to head to bed pretty soon.” “Well I would love to but Laura left here around eight o’clock like she always does!” He answered in a happy tone. “If Laura’s not there and not here, then where is she?” John asked, the concern in his voice growing. “I’m not sure; I’ll ask Jen if she knows. Just give me one sec. Jen!” “Yeah, dad!” “Have you seen Laura?” “Obviously not, she left at eight… remember?” “Yeah sorry John, haven’t seen her.” “Okay thanks, we’re going to go out and look for her, would you mind coming along?” John asked. “Of course! We’re not going to let you look alone!” They both hung up the phone simultaneously, and Brett gathered his family, and John did the same. Jennifer and her family walked out the front door, and only a few steps later, they stood in horror. Brett was conveniently a doctor, everyone swarmed around Laura who lay unconscious in a pool of her own blood.

The ambulances came shortly after; Laura’s mom rode in the ambulance with her, where she coded three times before they arrived at the hospital. John drove worried sick in the car behind them, he knew they must have found them, and by “they” he meant the millions of people that wanted him dead. He was after all an ex spy, well technically CIA agent, and so was his wife, but she was a computer technician and he was a field agent which tended to yield more enemies. When Patricia got pregnant with Laura fifteen years ago, John and Patricia decided that they would go into witness protection and never tell Laura the truth about them.

They arrived at the hospital, and waited for hours and hours while Laura was in surgery. When the doctors came out, everyone could see it on his face, but John and Patricia chose to hold onto the little bit of hope they had left. “I’m so sorry for your loss.” Patricia fell to the ground, the feeling as though her heart was just torn from her crest rested with her for quite some time. John kept a strong front as he listened to what the doctor had to say. “Her injuries were left untreated for too long. If she had just gotten here a little earlier we might’ve been able to help. There was nothing we could do, she lost too much blood. I’m so sorry for your loss.” Laura’s whole family slowly began to mourn her passing, but what they didn’t know was her “passing” was far from over. The doctor who had informed John of his daughter’s death, his family was being held hostage, and he was to do everything that they assailants say or it meant the life of his wife and two year old son. Laura was actually in the ICU under a fake name, her room heavily guarded by Russians who wanted something that her father had… access.

A few days had passed and Laura’s parents were devastated, although they had no clue that she had just gained consciousness and her injuries were healing rather nicely. Laura was immediately threatened and forced to assume the identity that the Russians had given her, or it meant the life of everyone she loved. Laura was clueless to the situation; she had no idea or even the thought that this situation could have anything to do with her parents. Later that afternoon John’s phone began to ring. “Hello.” He answered, his voice sounding tired and scratchy. “Hello John. You sound tired. Maybe it’s your daughter’s death that is weighing you down, hmm?” The strong Russian accent quickly woke John out of his grieving and immediately into revenge. “I’m going to kill you.” He said in a strong and angry tone. “No you’re not. That is if you ever want to see your daughter alive again.” The Russians voice was hard to understand but John was almost certain that he just said ‘daughter alive.’ “How do I know she’s alive? I want to hear her voice.” Patricia held her ear close to the phone after John wrote on a notepad telling her what was happening. “Say hello to daddy.” The Russian spoke. “Dad? Mom?” Laura sounded very confused, which in fact was the truth. “Oh my g’! My baby!” Laura’s mom cried. “What do you want?” John asked in a calm voice. “I want the file on every American agent in my Country. This is not negotiable.” The Russian demanded. “I don’t work for the government anymore; I’m a business man now. I don’t have any access.” John lied, knowing that if he handed over those files, he might as well have been murdering all those agents himself, not to mention getting those files would be nearly impossible. John still worked for a CIA on rare few missions; it was an addiction that was probably what got him and his family into this mess. “I have already put one bullet in your daughter, what makes you think I will have any problem doing it again, and again, and again.” The Russian was angered, and innocent Laura was afraid and in a good amount of pain. “Alright, alright. I’ll do it. How do I know you’ll give me my daughter back when it’s done?” John questioned. “I will give you your daughter when you give me my files.” The Russian answered, and that was little to no comfort for John. He knew he had to have an alternative plan in case something went wrong, the Russians were not to be trusted.

“I can’t give him those files; he’ll kill every one of our agents in Russia.” John pondered talking with Patricia. “If we don’t, he’ll kill our daughter!” It was really a matter of how far they were willing to go to protect the thing they loved most and for a matter of how far, the answer is as far as it takes, and no matter what it takes they were willing to do it. John gathered the files from his trusted contact in the CIA, and Patricia stood by the phone waiting for it to ring. The moment John returned home, the phone rang. Patricia answered it on the first ring. “Hello.” She spoke. “Good you have done well. Get the envelope under your doormat, in it is address where we will make the exchange. You bring the envelope, and I will bring your daughter.” The dial tone instantly started making that annoying beeping noise. Patricia hung up the phone and John already had the envelope in his hand. It gave the address and specified to come alone. Patricia begged John to come along, but she realized her daughters best chance was to follow all the directions given by the Russians.

John went to the meeting place which conveniently happened to be an abandoned building at least an hour outside of town, in more obvious words a good place to kill someone. Luckily John was highly trained, and getting the upper hand on him was not an easy thing to do. John drove up in his pearl white SUV, and of course the Russians had black SUVs, three in total. John sat in his bullet proof car, picking up the envelope, and pulling another envelope, identical to that out of it. Three men exited the vehicle, two men held Laura up, she was barely conscious. The third walked toward John. John got out of his car, envelope in hand, and weapons hidden. John and the third man met in the middle; John handed him the envelope, he slowly opened the envelope and looked over the contents for a few seconds. “You have what you want; now I want my daughter.” “Bring her here.” The Russian who appeared to be in charge ordered. Laura looked pale, her eyes barely opened. John’s concern continued to increase; the men gave Laura to John. He picked up his daughter and went back to his car, walking as fast as he could without hurting her. “It’s already baby, I have you. I’ve got you.” He placed Laura in the back, and got in the driver’s seat as fast as possible. As John expected, the Russian that continued to look over the paperwork soon realized it was not the real list. Bullets quickly started flying, although none were getting past John’s top of the line bullet proof glass. “Dad” Laura spoke weakly. “Yes baby.” He answered while driving at a crazy speed, trying to lose the Russians. “My arm” She mumbled. “I’m sorry sweetie; I’ll get you something for the pain as soon as I can.” John answered. “No dad, my arm look.” Laura held out her arm, relieving the tracking chip that was embedded in her skin. “Crap.” John had lost the Russians, but not for very long with that chip in Laura’s arm. He pulled over into a heavily treed forest. He climbed into the back, and pulled out his pocket knife, and alcohol from the middle console. He poured the alcohol on the knife and on Laura’s arm. “I’m sorry baby, this is going to hurt. Close your eyes and count to five. In five short seconds John had taken the chip out of Laura’s arm. He tossed it out the window and drove away at eighty miles an hour.

John picked up Patricia at the meeting spot they had specified before. Laura got treatment for her injuries, and John and Patricia told her who they actually were. Two short weeks later while the family remained in hiding, they picked up new identities from witness protection, and were on their way to an undisclosed location far away. Laura’s perfect normal life got turned upside down in matter of a few days, and not any few days, one of these few days happened to be Christmas. As for the Russians they were never caught, the nameless people remain at large to this day. So if you think your Christmas was bad, maybe you should just stop whining and be glad you weren’t shot. Merry Christmas!


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