Mission Possible--Short Story

In honor of the Christmas season, I decided to post a short story I wrote this year regarding Christmas. It's kind of sad, but has a hopeful ending. I enjoy writing stories and hope you really enjoy this!

Mission Possible

By Emily Burnham

The man stood outside, peering through the foggy window as he clenched a package stuffed in his pocket with cold, stiff fingers. He could barely see past the navy blue curtains, and his nose left a print on the window from standing so close, craning his neck at odd angles to catch a glimpse inside. His training kicked in and he began scanning for hidden cameras and alarms. Immediately, he shook his head in annoyance. There was no danger here—not physical danger, at least. The regret and guilt he experienced each time he came here never failed to torture him. But it was a small price to pay. His breath fogged up the glass window, and he shivered in the cold. Despite the snow layering the ground, he was determined to see his personal mission through, just like he had the past two years—he wouldn’t leave until he caught a glimpse of his precious baby girl. There—a flash of red running by. He could faintly hear a little girl giggling as she darted and danced around the lit Christmas tree.

A curvy woman chased after the girl—six years old now—laughing with her. His heart constricted in pain like a sponge being wrung dry. He’d lost his chance at happiness. At having a family and raising his daughter. He’d even been replaced. With drooping shoulders, he watched a man encircle the woman in his arms and draw her in for a long, sweet kiss under mistletoe. They looked like the perfect family, like everything he’d ever wanted. Too bad he hadn’t known that when he’d had it. No, it was a few years after the divorce when he realized the extent of his loss.

 He didn’t know how long he stood there in the frigid air, torturing himself. His fingers had long ago become numb. He watched the family eat turkey and mashed potatoes with gravy at a candle-lit table, watched them squirt more whipped cream into each other’s mouths than on the apple pie, watched them open presents under the colorful Christmas tree decorated with hand-crafted ornaments. He could hear his daughter’s delighted squeals and wished he had the courage to go inside and join her. But he didn’t dare intrude and break the peace. Not when everyone looked so hap—

The man sucked in a lungful of air at the sight of the red sweater his ex-wife was wearing. He had given it to her for their first anniversary, and she had loved wearing it after he told her how stunning she looked in it. Though she’d gained a few pounds since the divorce, she still looked breathtaking.

Shivering, with frozen tears on his face, he turned and walked away. He couldn’t take it any longer. She had been all his, and he’d foolishly cast her aside like a used toothpick, thinking his job was more important. He’d neglected his daughter and wife, throwing himself into one reckless mission after another, trying to climb the ladder of Homeland Security to the top. His wife’s pleadings to spend time with her and their daughter had fallen on deaf ears. Four years later and he’d reached the top at work, but at a hefty price. How many times did she have to put up with him coming home long after dinner had turned cold and been put away? How many of his daughter’s preschool dance recitals had he missed? How many family vacations had he cancelled last minute?

Looking back, he could see that she could tell he was lying to her about his whereabouts. She’d stopped believing him when he said he was travelling for work or staying late to file paperwork. After all, what kind of accountant travelled for months on end and constantly worked overtime? He should have told her the truth about his occupation, regardless of his chief’s orders. But he hadn’t. He let the lies pile up until one day they came toppling down in a screaming match of accusations and she couldn’t handle it anymore. Divorce papers followed soon after, and because of his dangerous and time-consuming job, he wasn’t allowed custody over his daughter. That hadn’t stopped him from visiting her as often as he could between jobs—four times a year if he was lucky. He’d refused to work on Christmas after the divorce, but could never gather the courage to visit them. It didn’t feel right when he hadn’t made the effort to be home for Christmas while they were still married. 

He continued trudging towards his car, planning on putting the package in the mail box like he did every year. He was resigned to the fact that he’d be spending Christmas in his empty apartment, eating cold pizza and watching Mission Impossible for the billionth time. Indeed, the job he had once glorified had come at a hefty price. Engrossed in his lonely thoughts, he missed the sound of the front door to the house slowly opening and footsteps crunching in the snow.

“Daddy?” a small voice asked. “Is that you?” The man turned slowly, as if in a dream. He couldn’t believe it. His daughter stood shivering in the front yard, her breath visible in the frigid air. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her small body, trying to keep warm. The last time he’d seen her was six months ago, and he couldn’t believe how much she’d grown since then.

“Baby Doll?” His heart started galloping out of his chest, and it was all he could do to stay upright as his knees threatened to collapse beneath him. He vaguely noticed how ironic it was that he was never this nervous when taking down terrorists and mass murderers.

“I’m not a baby,” she huffed, dramatically rolling her eyes as only six-year-olds can. 

“You’ll always be my baby,” the man whispered, still in a daze as he stared at the angelic little girl before him. Tufts of stray blonde hair formed a halo around her head and her wide blue eyes stared up at him curiously—features she’d definitely inherited from her mother. Yet he could see her resemblance to him in the shape of her flat nose and dimpled chin.

“Daddy, it’s cold outside. Let’s go in. Mommy’s making hot cocoa.” Her innocent smile nearly broke his heart in half. Even the curve of her smile resembled her mother.

“I-I don’t think that’s a good idea, Sweetie. Does your mom know you’re outside?”

She shook her head. “No, but I saw you through the window and came out to see you.”

“You’d better head inside before your mother misses you. You don’t want to worry her, do you?”

Her bottom lip stuck out in a pout and tears filled her eyes. “Bu-but I don’t wanna go! I wanna stay here with you.”

The man sighed in resignation and walked over to her, crouching down onto the cold, ice-packed ground to wrap his arms around her. He could feel her tremoring from the cold. “I know you do. I want to stay with you too. But we don’t want Mom to miss you.” Gently, he pulled away and tucked her hand in his as he stood up so he could walk her to the door. He paused for a moment, fist raised in the air, as he steeled his nerves. Rap, rap, rap. He gulped as the door slowly cracked open, mentally preparing himself for her cold wrath.

“Greg? What are you doing here? Don’t you have to… work?” his confused ex-wife asked, her narrowed eyes trailing down to his hand linked with their daughter’s. “Annie, what are you doing outside?”

“I saw Daddy through the window!” Annie tugged on his hand, pulling her reluctant father inside after her. Her mother furrowed her eyebrows as they passed by her. She cracked the door closed behind her and hesitantly trailed after the pair, taking Annie’s other hand.

“That’s nice, Honey. Why don’t you go show Steve the presents you got from grandma this morning?” She tugged Annie away from Greg and towards the kitchen. Greg felt a sting of jealousy—Steve got to spend more time with his daughter than he did.

“Can I show Daddy my presents too?” she asked with shining eyes, bouncing up and down. She clapped her hands in excitement, causing Greg to relax and chuckle at her enthusiasm.

“Maybe another time.” With her teeth clenched together tightly, she continued to pull on their daughter’s arm. She muttered, “He’s too busy with more important things, anyway.”

“But Mommy!” Annie started to whine, trying to free her hand from her mother’s grasp. “I want Daddy to stay here!”

“Annie.” Her tone was firm. “Please listen to me.” Annie shook her head vehemently, her face scrunching up in defiance.

“Annie, it’s okay. Listen to your mom. I can come by some other time to see all your presents.  But here,” he awkwardly stuffed a hand in his pocket and pulled out a small wrapped package. He felt uncomfortable under the searching scrutiny of his ex-wife, who was probably wondering why he’d chosen now to show up at Christmas after three years of divorce. Little did she know this was a habit of his. He just hadn’t gotten caught before. “This is for you.” Annie’s face brightened in anticipation and she succeeded in pulling free from her mother as she darted forward.

“What is it?” Her fingers wiggled in the air as she held out an impatient hand.

“Open it and see.”

Tearing through the candy-cane decorated wrapping paper, Annie gasped in delight. “It’s sparkly!” She clutched the rhinestone encrusted box to her chest, twisting back and forth with a smile as brilliant as the lights strung on the tree.

“Don’t you want to know what’s inside of the box?” Greg playfully asked, his discomfort melting under the warmth of his daughter’s delight. He’d finally stopped shivering.

“There’s more?” Her face lit up. She plopped down onto the floor and carefully placed the box in front of her. Slowly, she lifted the lid and pulled out a heart-shaped locket was pulled out. “Ooh, pretty!” she cooed.

“How much did that cost?” his ex-wife asked, turning her piercing gaze towards him.

“Doesn’t matter.” He shook his head and knelt down next to his daughter, showing her how to open it.

“Daddy, that’s a picture of you!” She pointed to the left side of the locket.

“Yup, that’s me.”

“And is that me?” She pointed to the right frame, where a small picture of her as a baby lay. Although his face was cut out of the picture to make the photo small enough to fit, she was lying in his arms, sound asleep.

“Yes. You were such a beautiful baby.” He reached out and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear before closing the locket for her and clasping it around her neck. “Now I can always be with you, even when I’m away at work.”

“Thanks Daddy.” She threw her arms around his neck and he wrapped his arms around her, conscious of his ex-wife roasting him alive with the heat of her gaze, arms folded in a protective manner.

“I got to go now. I love you, Baby Doll.” He gave her one last squeeze before letting go.

“Love you too.” 

With one last glance at his daughter, Greg stepped back outside into the cold. The door slammed shut behind him. With a sigh, he trudged across their yard towards the empty street. He’d parked his car further down, not wanting it to be heard or recognized by his ex-wife.

“Wait!” a deep voice called out from behind him. Greg turned back, spotting Steve waving at him through the doorway. “Want to join us for one last game before Annie has to go to bed? We’re playing Monopoly and could use another player.”

            “I’m not sure,” he said, avoiding eye contact.  

            “Annie really wants to play with you.”

            “What about Cindy?”

            “Cindy wants Annie to be happy. And you make her happy.” Steve shrugged as if it were that simple. Greg weighed his options. He could go home and spend Christmas night alone, or he could pretend to be part of a perfect family and spend time with his baby girl.

            “Okay.” Greg agreed, his eyes stinging as he placed one foot in front of the other. Gratitude replaced the earlier resentment Greg had felt towards Steve as he walked back into the house. The door clicked firmly shut behind them.

The End

True Friends

If asked who my closest friend is, in all honesty I would have to say my mom. Or my sister. I haven’t ever really had super close friends for long. I try my best to be super nice to people and can make friends pretty well, but I guess I am not that good on keeping them. I would have friends I talked to at school in high school, but we never hung out outside of school. We would mostly talk about the classes we were in, and if the next year we didn’t have any classes together, we drifted apart. Many people I thought I was friends with in orchestra, I never talk to anymore now that I’m not in orchestra. I will occasionally wave and smile at them in the hall, ask them how they are, but it’s like we now have nothing in common and have nothing to talk about. Even friends I make within my religion, with whom I have tons of stuff in common with, I still don’t hang out much with them. I was the kid in elementary school that got along better with adults than other kids. My mom would say how mature I was for my age. I wasn’t into any bands or music, didn’t care about movie stars, and thought boys were so immature. So I didn’t relate much to people around me—people who were obsessed with bands or had a crush on a movie star, so that was all they talked about.

I always tell my mom everything. I am a completely honest person—some would say blunt—and so my mom was always there for me no matter what I was going through. She is the one that knows everything about me. I guess I am a bit socially awkward in groups of people (at least I feel that way), and often don’t know what to say. One of the biggest problems I’ve had is learning that people didn’t care what I had to say. When I was younger, I would always talk—a lot! My family gave me a nick name because of it. As I got older, I learned people did not always care about what I was saying, or got bored because I tended to drag stories out by adding lots of information—some of it unnecessary—and they would tune me out. I would talk to a girl on the bus, and in the middle of talking to her, she is suddenly on her phone or turns to talk to someone else. Once someone asked how I was doing. I hesitated for a moment, and then decided to be honest. I said “bad.” That person obviously wasn’t listening because they smiled happily, replied with “good!” and turned away to talk to someone else. But then again, you mostly ask people how they are doing out of habit and usually do not care how they respond. They expect you to say good and not start lamenting about how awful your day has been—unless you are super close or family. Once I started picking up on how people didn’t really listen to me, I thought maybe I was imagining it or just being judgmental—until I would stop talking in the middle of a sentence and the person would think I was done talking to them and turn away. That proved they weren’t listening. They were just waiting “politely” for me to shut up so they could find someone else to talk to. I cannot tell you how many times this has happened. It makes my really respect people who will actually take the time to listen! Well, from this, I guess I became kind of jaded and just stopped talking so much to people. I would read on my phone instead of interacting at social gatherings.

I feel like a lot of friendships are shallow. Friends that only discuss fashion or famous people—or subjects in school—really don’t know each other. They don’t know how many siblings each other have, or if they have pets. They don’t know each other’s likes and dislikes. Those were often the relationships at school I had because not a lot of people wanted to connect on a personal level. Some people like their space and don’t want to get deep and personal. I am someone who is so honest and open, I will talk about things I am struggling with openly and put a lot of energy and emotion into a friendship. This is often not reciprocated. Or maybe it’s just unwanted. Some people don’t want to share personal things about themselves because they are afraid of being judged, or maybe they are embarrassed.

Honestly, just be yourself. And when you do find a good friend, hold onto them! Don’t let them drift away, because  genuine friends are honestly hard to find. It takes work to keep a friendship, not unlike a marriage. I am learning all the time how to be a better friend, and a lot of it is just being positive and outgoing. Be encouraging and loving. Don’t be jaded and judgmental like I used to be about people because I always assumed they weren’t listening to me or didn’t care what I had to say—even when they were listening. Friendship takes reaching out to people, lifting them up, and relying on them when you are in need, too. Don’t get me wrong, though. It is okay to still have (what I call) shallow relationships with people. Shallow as in you don’t bare your soul to them. You discuss light things you have in common—school, work, movies, hobbies, etc. It is fun to just be goofy sometimes around people and not having to talk about serious, deep things. But it is also important to have someone to discuss those deep, personal things with. For me, that has always been my mom. I have hoped all my life to one day to find more people like that—lifelong friends—and to connect with more people and stay connected. Staying connected can be hard in “shallow” relationships just because you can run out of things to say if you are only friends because of work or school. You get tired of talking about school and work, or you run out of things to say about those topics. It is important to continuously make new connections with people, which gives you more things to talk about. This includes experiencing new things together or going on an adventure. That reason right there is probably a huge reason I cannot seem to hold onto friends—I don’t really hang out at friends’ houses or go to parties. I love staying home if I can and don’t try to make plans (that often) with people to go out and do activities. Just by hanging out with people in different environments, you are building inside jokes, funny memories, and experiences to talk about later on that will deepen relationships. A deep friendship is one where you don’t have to worry about saying the wrong thing or what you are wearing, because your souls have connected—you look deeper than the outer appearances. You look at personality. Family is able to do this, which is why my greatest friends are members of my family, and my friends outside of my family, I treat like family.

Now, as I have moved out of the house and away from my family to go to college, and as I now share a dorm room with someone 24/7, the day has come. I have been forging close relationships with my roommates and making connections that will last. It is the best feeling ever! Being a true friend is focusing on making them happy and comfortable. Don’t feel self-conscious or over-analyze what they say. Be open and honest—especially if you have an issue. As you focus on bringing others up, you bring yourself up too.

Food Allergies

A month before I turned 17—the morning after Winter Formal—I woke with a giant, bloated tummy. It was very painful, and I suspected I might have developed a food allergy to gluten. My cousin had the exact same symptoms as I did, and she was diagnosed with celiac disease as a young teen. I thought maybe I had also developed this disease, since it ran in our family. It was my junior year—what some people call their hardest year in high school—and I did not want to have to deal with this. I had always thought before that it would be interesting to have something wrong with you so that you would stick out and be different.  That was some pretty self-centered and twisted thinking I had as a kid. In all honesty, it can just become a burden. Months went by of stomach problems before I was able to get tested and receive the results—mostly because the doctor we went to was closed over Christmas Break and then scheduling to get in took a while. I took a simple food allergy blood test. Weeks later, went back into the doctor and received my results. I had expected my allergy to be to gluten, but I was very surprised to find that dairy, eggs, wheat, rice, almonds, walnuts, peanuts, coconut, pineapple, cranberry, soy, mushrooms and other random things were foods I was allergic to. Physically, I was in a lot of pain in my stomach area, and so I promptly had to start a diet that excluded all of these foods. The doctor said it would be a month until everything was cleared out and then I would start feeling better. She said my gut needed to heal and clear up, and then maybe I could reintroduce some food and I wouldn’t be allergic to it or it wouldn’t have that big of an effect on me.       

Well, what do you eat when you cannot have gluten, dairy, and eggs—and a lot of other things? It was very difficult. Diet change physically affects your body and mental capacity. Eating lots of meats, fruits and vegetables seemed the way to go. I had a ton of chicken salads. No treats, no nothing. I think I subconsciously became afraid of food and didn’t want to eat it. It is pretty sad to force yourself to eat every day because you know you need to. It was frustrating because when people asked if I was feeling better, the answer was no. I felt even worse. Adjusting to this diet took a lot of energy and was very tiring. I wasn’t getting enough protein, nutrients, and energy from what I ate, even though ironically it was meats and vegetables. My mind did not feel as clear as it had before, and I became so frustrated that my body wouldn’t work and feel as good as it did before this food allergy problem started. Halfway done with junior year in high school, I struggled to keep my grades up. I have always been a straight A student, and so when grades started slipping to borderline B’s, and my math grade did go down to a B, I tried so hard to study and do better. I went in for math tutoring multiple times, got very frustrated with inability to understand, and had many breakdowns. I will be honest and admit that my inability to understand the math I was taking was not completely due to my diet change. Calculus itself is a worthy opponent without adding physical or mental problems to it. I realize now that I was very depressed the rest of the school year. Many physical changes happened the following six months after this diet-change. I kept losing weight, and my hair thinned out. It was really scary when huge chunks of hair would shed in the shower. I was worried I was going bald for a while. It was a sign of unhealthiness. I was accidentally starving my body by not getting enough nutrients I needed and not eating enough. Some days it would be so hard to keep my breakfast down. My stomach would often feel queasy, but I refused to throw up and develop an eating disorder. It became easier when I started figuring out yummy things I could eat. When you can’t all of the sudden have brownies, cookies, ice-cream, donuts, etc., you relish what you can have. So I would eat potato chips or other unhealthy snacks.

I realized after almost a year that I needed to be eating healthier to feel better! I was already not eating lots of sugary foods, but I needed to eat more vegetables and find meals that spice things up and makes healthy food taste good. I got really sick of chicken after a while, but I would have meat loaf, bell peppers stuffed with vegetables and sausage, salads, beans, baked potatoes, etc. Once I realized how much things I still could eat, and that it was good, I began to eat more. I gained back about ten pounds (which I needed) and felt better and more confident. I felt like I could finally deal with my problem. Now, almost a year and a half later, I still don’t feel completely perfect, but I am healthier and can now talk about my food allergies without crying in front of people! I am not ashamed, resentful, or angry anymore. I will be honest and say it can still be frustrating, but I am learning to have a better attitude about things and it is making a huge difference. There are few restaurants I can eat out at, and I still have to eat before parties or social events, but now it is not that hard to be surrounded by people eating donuts or pizza in front of you when you know you cannot eat it. I’ve learned a lot about nutrition from this trial I’ve had. I am so grateful for my supportive family and friends—for the people I’ve crossed paths with that have similar allergies and give me advice on what to make and eat. That has been so helpful. If anyone suddenly becomes allergic to basically everything, my advice would be to connect with others that have been dealing with it for a while, because they will provide the support and information you need to avoid having mental breakdowns and panic attacks. This really has been a blessing—at least I have seen blessings come from this—because of the people I have been able to talk to and relate with. I am now interested in pursuing a career that helps people with nutrition and eating disorders or dieting because this experience has made it very personal to me.

I was very worried about going off to college in a different state and leaving behind my family because I was afraid I would starve. Because of my food allergies, my diet is very expensive, especially compared to what other college students buy and eat. I was also worried about not having the time or energy to cook for myself. I’d planned to make meal plans to rotate through each week, which would tell me what to buy and make for the week to keep myself on track. However, without a car, grocery shopping is a pain. More than once, I’ve had to ride a bike three miles to a grocery store that had bread and other foods I was able to eat, and then only buy what I could carry on a three mile bike ride back to my dorm. However, now that I’ve been attending college for almost 6 months, I am proud to say that I am still alive and well! Canned beans and vegetables have literally been a life-saver.

I have definitely been blessed in so many ways; I cannot even count them all. It has really helped that I was able to do a project in one of my religion classes on eating healthy and exercising (obeying the Word of Wisdom), which I will have to share another time! I hope you guys are better at planning and making meals than I am! If not, you can always make it your New Year’s resolution! Stay healthy and strong!

Example of a weekly meal plan I made: