It took me almost a full hour to decorate all six of my chosen gingerbread men. Each design was more extravagant than the next, the lines and decorations more intricate, the designs more time-consuming. Mama finished within ten minutes and had left me alone in the kitchen to work in peace whilst she hung some more decorations up in the living room. I was glad she had left me alone to work because I hated it when people watched over my shoulder all the time, it seriously messed up what I was doing. That and she had a habit of humming Christmas songs whenever she worked and it took everything within me not to join in.

By the time I had finished the decorating, my fingers were numb and cramped from holding the icing, my wrists aching after being stationary for so long. Art was a painful thing if you were doing it right. I placed my gingerbread back onto the cooling rack to allow the icing time to dry and began restocking the cupboards, singing to myself as I did so. I may not have been a big fan of Christmas itself, but the music never failed to put a smile on my face no matter the time of year. Nick always said I was crazy, he thought the best part of Christmas was the lights, but I just didn't see it the way he did. He got to see the lights from above, thousands of them all at the same time, I never had that.

When it came to decorating the house, Nick always wanted the biggest, brightest lights. The ones that acted like a beacon through the snow, a way of guiding you home were you ever lost. It was like he was trying to outdo someone, but there was no one around to outdo, up in the North Pole we had the best display, every single year. I sat back and let them get on with it. I always ended up getting in the way so I would just sit by the music player and change the tracks when necessary, singing along with them each and every time. Tragic, I know.

Shaking my head, I threw a used tea towel into the washing room and closed the door behind it, listening as the machine whirred to life. The smell of gingerbread still lingered in the hallway as I poked my head around the living room door to see if Mama needed any help. She was muttering to herself, the same tune over and over again, as if she couldn't remember what came next, or didn't care to remember. In the palm of her hand lay a small, gold star, twinkling whenever the light caught it. "Need any help, Mama?"

"Could you pass me the jar on the table?" Mama replied, turning her head and gesturing to the clear jar on the table. In it, lay hundreds upon thousands of the small stars she held in her hand. All of them shining and gleaming through the plastic.

"Sure." I stepped into the room, dodging a box of tinsel that lay discarded on the floor and picked up the jar. It felt almost weightless like the stars weren't really in there and it was just an empty jar.

I negotiated the decorations that lay scattered all over the floor, baubles in heaps according to colour, ceiling decorations stacked up and most importantly, boxes of lights. I had only been gone for an hour but Mama had managed to get everything down from the attic without me even noticing. Either she was strangely quiet, or I was too stupid to notice the banging that came from the stairs.

"Thank you, can you unscrew the lid for me?" I nodded and began twisting the lid until it popped off the top, leaving the opening to the jar unprotected.

Mama placed the loose star back into the jar, watching as the loose pieces of glitter fell from her hand like a waterfall. Getting glitter off was a nightmare, but Mama had some sort of knack to it. She always managed to remove it, even when most people couldn't. Whether that was North Pole magic or not, it was still pretty cool. It also made for an excellent performance, watching the glitter fall from her hands was a mesmerising affair. She used to do it when Nick and I were babies, just watching it was enough to send us to sleep.

Those were the days I missed. Seeing the magic for the first time and being so amazed by it, I just couldn't stop watching it. The magic of Christmas meant so much to Mama and Papa, it hurt me that I couldn't enjoy it the way they could, it was like I wasn't normal, wasn't quite part of the family. I suppose the magic was just part of it all, and when you lose interest in the magic, you lose interest in Christmas itself.

"Here, you can do this bit," Mama handed the jar back to me and stepped back from the step ladder. I furrowed my eyebrows at her, unsure of what she meant. "What does your father always say about magic?"

"You have to believe it to see it," I smiled, looking down into the jar.

"That's right. You'll know what to do, just wait." Mama placed a comforting hand on my shoulder, the palm of her hand cool to the touch.

I glanced down at all the stars, each one different from the next, despite their overall appearance. I lightly shut my eyes, picturing the times I had seen Papa with the jar, what he had done and just how he did it. The idea was crazy, utterly and completely insane, but if it had worked for him, if Nick had been able to do it, then I was almost certain it would work for me as well, and if it didn't, well, I didn't even want to think about that.

My fingers tightened around the jar, feeling the heat radiate into the plastic and then bounce back, warming my fingers like the gingerbread had done. I took a breath, opened my eyes and threw the jar into the air, watching as the glitter and stars flung out the top and began to fall weightlessly to the ground. The glitter surrounded me, circling me like a tornado. My entire vision was surrounded by gold and silver, nothing else seemed to matter anymore, nothing but the sight before me, the spectacle that brought the joy of Christmas flooding back like it never really left.

Papa was right about something, the foundation of Christmas was seeing the beauty in everything. Be it the snow falling from the sky, or the mess made after a long day of putting up decorations. There was beauty to be found in everything, even if it took a while to see what it really was, what it really meant. That was what made Christmas so magical, so special. I wish it lasted, but the moment the glitter began to fade, began to take its rightful place, the joy faded and I was left empty, wishing it was still there, wishing it would last forever.

When the glitter had faded from view, my eyes getting used to seeing everything as it was rather than through a haze of gold, I almost dropped the now empty jar in surprise. Almost every surface was covered in a thin sheen of glitter. The mantelpiece sparkled like it was alive, the table looked as though it had been painted, but most importantly, the stars were covering the walls. The once blank wallpaper and paint began to shine and almost glow, the stars were spread across it like a night sky. Even without the tree, without the tinsel and without the over dramatic lights, Christmas was definitely in the air.

It was only October.

"Nicely done," Mama said, her hand gripping my shoulder tightly. I smiled to myself and placed the jar back on the table just as the front door crashed open. Papa's laughter carried into the room, Nick giggling along with him. As much as I enjoyed their little bonding moments (not) did they have to be so loud about it?

Mama released my shoulder and lightly dusted off her trousers, small flecks of glitter floating to the ground. I quickly pushed my wind swept hair off my face and tucked it behind my ears, trying to make myself look slightly presentable. My clothes were covered in small flecks of glitter, but as I didn't have Mama's magic touch, there was no way for me to get it off. I was just going to have to shine like I was part of the decorations, not planned, but certainly entertaining.

"I smell gingerbread!" Papa yelled, his voice so loud, it could have damaged my eardrums.

"I made some earlier, Nicolas, Ken and I spent some time decorating them and then started decorating the house," Mama replied, her voice sounding somewhat forced and frantic.

"I want a gingerbread now! Can I Papa? Can I? Can I?" Nick asked. From the sound of it, he was jumping up and down like a rabbit, clearly overexcited about the prospect of gingerbread.

"Not yet. We have supper to eat. I brought some with me, Holly, we stopped off at a restaurant on our way back and picked something up."

Papa's footsteps echoed down the hallway, Nick's little ones running to catch up to him. Mama looked at me, raised and eyebrow and then shrugged, I had no idea what she meant by her actions, but I wasn't going to ask too many questions. Instead, I followed her through the living room and into the adjacent dining room, the Christmas decorations suddenly falling flat in the next room. I never did understand why the stars only worked in the room you threw them, it made so much more sense for them to cover all rooms, then it wasn't a complete a waste of time. Couldn't really knock it, though, I had just covered half the living room and didn't even move.

As Mama grabbed the cutlery from the cabinet, I slid into my usual seat at the table, the one opposite Nick. As it went, Mama and Papa sat at the heads of the table, looking at each other and, most importantly, having a perfect view of Nick and me, just to make sure we weren't getting up to any mischief they couldn't see. Nick sat one side of the table, his gaze constantly fixed on either Papa or me, I sat opposite him, my head always kept down, my mouth always remained shut. I never tried to join in the supper time conversation, I had no idea what they were talking about half the time anyway.

My eyes fixed on a scratch in the table and I decided that it was going to be my staring point for the night. It's placement made it look as though I was too busy eating to even listen to the conversation unfolding. Just as Papa entered the room, Mama dropped a hair tie in front of me as well as the cutlery, I muttered a word of thanks and pulled my hair back into a low ponytail at the base of my neck. Small tendrils of hair fell around my face, too short to tie out of the way.

Papa dropped the bags onto the table and began sorting through them, pulling out boxes full of fries and burgers and placing them in front of us. Nick sat in his seat, or should I say danced in his seat. The kid could not sit still for the life of him, constantly fidgeting, constantly moving around. Nothing you ever said or did could stop him from moving, he was a literal nightmare. It was like he was on a permanent sugar rush, understandable given how much sugar he had on a daily bases. Although he denied it, Mama and I both knew that Papa gave him sweets when they went out, something that did not help his mood.

"Right, dig in then!" Papa said, clapping his hands together and sitting down. I grabbed two cardboard boxes and pulled them closer to me, opening the burger box and pouring the fries into the lid, Nick did the same but he managed to spill most of them onto the table and the floor for Buddy to eat.

"How was your day dear?" Mama asked, looking to Papa and taking a bite of her burger. I ate in silence, focusing on the scratch as the conversations continued around me.

"Nick and I went for a fly, taught him how to use the navigation system, picked it up quite quickly, didn't you my boy?"

"Yes, Papa!"

Of course, he did. Papa could do nothing more than sing Nick's praises whenever the opportunity presented itself, which was every day. It was always about Nick, how well he got on with his training, how quickly he mastered the task given the time scale. Nick this, Nick that. Papa raved about the boy like he was his only child. I suppose I expected nothing less, Nick was to take over the family business, as was the tradition, but I couldn't deal with the constant praise he received whilst I was ignored. I didn't want to be the next Santa Claus, heck I didn't even want to be the next Mrs Claus, I just wanted Papa to notice me. Just once.

The conversation continued to change, but the focus was always Nick. Papa commented on Nick's wrapping skills when it came to the Candy Canes, even though I had actually made them. Everything was always going to be about Nick and there was nothing I or even Mama could do to put a stop to it. That was just the way things worked in our house, the heir got the most attention because they were considered the most important. The other kids were just left to wonder what their life was going to be like when all of it was over. We had a choice, they did not.

"Mama, can I do the star trick this year?" Nick said, looking to Mama with his big puppy dog eyes. I had to look at her as well, I had already done it and we both knew what Nick was like when he didn't get his own way.

"Well, sweetie, you were gone all day and I needed it to be done first so I said Kenzie could do it," Mama told him, holding her hands together onto of the table.

"But it was my turn! Last year you said I could do it!"

"I know I did honey, but I needed it done today and Kenzie has never had a chance to do it before, you have. Can't you just let it go? You can do it next year." Mama was trying to smooth it over with him, but it wasn't going to work. Once Nick had an idea in his head, he never let it go. If he wanted to do the star trick, he was going to do the star trick, whether it had been done already or not.

"No! I want to do it this year!"

"Just tidy it all away and let him do it later on. I had ago, Nick can officially do it," I shrugged, dropping a napkin into my now empty food box.

"You sure, Kenzie?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

Truth was, I was seriously not okay with it. I had never had the chance to do something like that before and the moment it happens, Nick kicks off because of a promise that was made to him twelve months before. He was never satisfied unless he was the one doing everything, the one starting off the decorating, the one putting up the lights. For a twelve-year-old, he really did think highly of himself, and Papa didn't help.

The dinner table fell silent, no one, not even Nick dared to speak. It was as though my bowing out had stunned them, but I didn't know why. I suppose I had always been one for a fight, one to never back down, but after several years of it, you learn to just give in. What was the point in fighting them all the time if I was never going to win? It was better for me to back down, admit defeat and move on. No point crying over something I, nor anyone else, could control. There was nothing left for me to fight for, not for recognition, not for a chance to do something good with my life. I was trapped in an endless and repetitive cycle with no way off the crazy train. Well, at least nothing sprung to mind immediately.

Mama was the first one to do anything remotely normal. She noticed everyone had finished their meal and began stacking the boxes together, ready to be moved to the workshop. That was one of the many joys of living in the North Pole, nothing was ever rubbish. It could always be made into something bigger, better. Who needs recycling when you have elves? I always wondered how something as simple as cardboard could become a toy, but I always got the same response, no matter who I asked.

North Pole Magic.

When the table was cleared, Mama slipped from the room and returned seconds later with the cooling rack covered in gingerbread men. They were split according to who decorated them, Mama's on one side, mine on the other. I don't know why she separated them like that, they certainly weren't that way when I finished decorating mine. I just placed them on top, since they were the last to be finished. The divide was completely pointless.

"Mine are on the left and the ones decorated by Kenzie are on the right," Mama said, placing the tray in the centre of the table. She looked at me, one eyebrow raised, as though she expected me to say something. Then I caught on.

She has split them so Papa could see just how much care I put into things, the detail that was needed in order to work at the painting station in the workshop. Mama was dropping small, yet obvious hints to Papa so that asking him would be a lot easier on me. The plan may have appeared decent, to begin with, but we both knew that it wasn't going to make the situation any better. It may have made him consider the possibility for more than a few seconds, but it wasn't going to change his mind completely. I just had to pluck up the courage and ask him myself, but that was terrifying.

Papa picked up one of the gingerbread men from my side of the cooling rack and began to look at it closely, examining it from all angles. I felt a bubble of anxiety rise up in my stomach, waiting for his verdict, if he liked it, then it was a pretty good sign if not, there was no way I was going to be allowed to any sort of work in the workshop. "Not bad, keen eye for detail, lines are all straight, colours haven't merged. Good job Kenzie," Papa nodded, taking a bite out of the man.

"Thank you, Papa," I smiled, grabbing a random cookie of the rack and taking a bite. The warm taste of gingerbread filled my mouth, igniting a fire in my cheeks that spread throughout my body. Gingerbread was a true sign of Christmas, no matter the time of year.

"Actually, Nicolas, Kenzie has something to ask you, don't you Ken?" Mama turned to me, nudging her head and raising an eyebrow. She was determined to get me to ask him, even if I really didn't want to.

"I guess." I paused for a moment and cleared my throat, the only technique I had to delay the inevitable. "I was wondering if it would be possible for me to work at the painting station."

The words came out faster than I had intended, but I knew by the look on Papa's face that he understood everything. He sat there, staring at me like I had just told him something horrific. His nose twitched and he put down his gingerbread man, a bad sign if ever there was one. He never put down food. My eyes instantly looked at Mama, hoping she could say or do something that could calm Papa's mood before it got out of hand. She just looked at me, fear evident on her face. I was on my own for this, whatever Papa was going to do, I had to deal with it on my own without so much as a backup. Well, at least I knew what I was getting myself into.

"Why?" One simple word was all he said in response. That one word was enough to put on edge, quite literally. I had pushed myself forward so I was balancing precariously on my edge of my chair. I could make a quick get away if I needed one.

"I don't want to spend my entire life making cookies and sitting around watching whilst Nick gets to do all the fun stuff. I want to contribute to the toy making rather than doing nothing all year, every year. I want to help more," I said, my voice shaking with each passing word.

"No. Tradition dictates that only the elves are allowed to work on the toys, no one else."

"Tradition? That's what all this is about? Maintaining traditional values put in place some thousands of years ago? Maybe it's time we broke the tradition."

"Get out."

Two simple, yet terrifying words. Papa was usual a jolly, happy man, as dictated by, yes, tradition. The force of the words, the power used, told me that he meant it. I had just insulted everything he held close to his heart and that was overstepping the mark, especially by my standards. I knew that there was no way I was going to get out of this one, no way he would even listen to my side of the story, so I did what I was told, I left.

Well, when I say left, I mean I left the dining room, slipped on my boots and jacket and went for a walk outside. I wandered through the snow for what felt like ages, until my fingers were red and numb and my cheeks were almost burning. Going home would have been the best option, but I knew it was likely to be frostier inside than it was outside, so I went to my second best option, the workshop. It was always warm in there and I knew that AJ and Alex would listen to my side of the story, hear what I had to say rather than jumping down my throat.

I crossed through the snowy landscape, shoving my hands deep into my pockets in an attempt to warm them slightly. The workshop was only a short distance from the house, but I had taken the long way in order to kill some much needed time. By the time I reached the workshop, the sun was setting and it was beginning to go dark a seriously bad sign. Never walk through the snow in the dead of night. You will get lost. Trust me, I know the North Pole like the back of my hand and I still got lost on several occasions. If it hadn't have been for Nick's light shows I would never have found my way home. The brat was good for some things I suppose.

Pushing open the door to the workshop, I was greeted with a burst of hot air from the fireplace. It was like walking straight into a furnace, only the furnace was somewhere you actually wanted to be. I was so glad to be out of the cold that the moment I shut that door I breathed a huge sigh of relief. All I had to do next was warm up my fingers because they were freezing. Luckily, Alex always had a pot of hot chocolate and some mugs in front of the fireplace, just in case. I crossed the room and poured the liquid into a mug, feeling the heat against my fingers as I brought the mug to my lips and took a sip, ignoring the scalding heat. Alex shuffled over to me as I slid into one of the armchairs in front of the fire, my feet resting on the table.

"What happened?" Alex asked, jumping up onto the chair opposite me. I rested my mug onto my lap and launched into the story, starting from the moment I had left the workshop to leaving the house only moments before. Alex listened carefully, nodding along and not saying a single word. From where I was sitting, I saw AJ poke his head up from behind his stack of paperwork to listen in, clearly curious as to the day's events.

When I finished, I took another long swig from my drink as Alex tried to process all I had told him. He pulled a couple of strange faces, many of which involved his tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth, a concentration face if ever there was one.

"I don't know what you expected Ken, your entire family is based around upholding traditions put in place thousands of years ago. Without the traditions, Christmas wouldn't be what it is today," Alex said.

"I know that, but sometimes change can be a good thing. Besides, it's not like I was asking to take over from him, I just wanted a chance to work here with you guys. To found out where I really belong," I sighed

"Well, there is one way you can do that which doesn't involve breaking tradition," AJ added, hopping down from his desk and walking over to us. I had never seen him without the desk and paper parked in front of him, seeing him walk around like a normal human was a strange sight to behold.

"What do you mean?"

"Quite simple, Mackenzie, you have a choice. It was written that the child who will not take on the role of Santa Clause has the opportunity to go out and explore the real world. It's a chance to discover who you really are and just what you want out of life. Maybe that's what you need, a few months to get yourself together and find out just what you want to do. You never know, maybe you'll find the answers you want."

A chance to leave the North Pole? To live as a normal child? I didn't even know something like that was possible! Mama and Papa had never mentioned it before and neither had Nick. Maybe AJ was right, though. Maybe I just needed to experience life for myself as a normal teenager. To spend time with people my own age and not have to worry about things getting done in time. Most importantly, it would be a chance to escape Christmas and find out if it was something I really wanted to be around my entire life.

Maybe leaving would help fix everything. Or least help.

"Okay, sounds like a plan. For the next three months, I'm going incognito!" 

~~~

A/N - A longer chapter here, but we get to see some great magic at work :D I can't believe that the Santa Claus reacted like that! There is a line, buddy, and you crossed it! Oh well, at least Kenzie has a direction she can now take.

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Dedication - This week's dedication is going to Bobbie-Penn because I know how much she loves Christmas xD

First Published - October 25th, 2016