emilyrutherford

It was everyone's favourite time of the year. Christmas. Presents, music, cheer, normal people being jolly. I quite liked Christmas too, to be honest. I was sat on the end of the sofa, next to Gran, picking strips of green plant off of the Christmas tree, being quiet as I did it. I was on carol duty, not my favourite job. Gran had to go with me when we opened the door to snowy paths and singing children who had nothing better to do. There was a knock. "More carollers, Gran. Come on." We walked from the warm seats on the cushion of the sofa, and into the hall. I opened the door and revealed six kids singing 'It Came Upon a Midnight Clear'.

It was a cold, quiet November day, and Imogen had been pulled out of school, once again, to go to the local doctor surgery. Imogen had to walk from Room 2B, Science Class, and to reception where she saw her beaming mother. Beaming brightly, despite the cold, biting wind outside. It was a fight to drive through the snow-slicken roads. They arrived at the surgery, and now, Imogen just had to sit on the red leather bench and just, hold tight. "Mom, do I have a disease or something?" Imogen asked, bored out of her mind. "No, you just have a bad chest infection, all the time. There is no choice, Imogen," answered her mother. A man with a bush