Mom cooked a lot of food for Christmas dinner but I just don't feel like eating at all.

"Honey, try this one out!" she tells dad whose mouth was stuffed with some roasted ham. "You, too, Amelia."

She turns to me as dad scoops some of the beef casserole mom offered him.

"I think I'm done," I just say as I pretend to eat the ham that has been sitting on my plate since dinner started.

"I don't think you are," she says, the excitement in her eyes fading away. "Is something wrong?" she asks.

"No, mom, I'm perfectly fine," I lie, gulping some water.

"Are you sure?" she says and I just nod.

"I think I'd get some fresh air," I say, standing from my seat.

I leave my used plate on the table before excusing myself to go outside. I brought my coat with me and put it around me before opening the door.

I sit down on the front porch, stretching my legs as my feet come in contact with the snowy ground. I sigh as I remember the cat that spent its night in my room yesterday or more like earlier.

I left the window open so that it could leave whenever it wanted to. However, I think I caught a cold since my room was freezing earlier.

The cat left when I was asleep and when I finally woke up that morning, it was gone.

I stretch my arm as if to reach the starry sky. I widened my palm and stretched my arm even more.

"What are you trying to reach?" a girl's voice asks and there she was again, the girl with the bright light.

"Nothing," I softly say, putting my arm done.

The girl sits down beside me, her light blinding,

"Are you really Chelsea?" I ask her.

"Are you really Amelia?" she asks back.

"Maybe," I say as she giggles at my answer.

"You really are stupid," she remarks before standing up once again.

"Where are you going?" I say, covering my eyes with my hand.

"I don't know, maybe do some last-minute Christmas shopping," she says and I can't help but remember how Chelsea loved Christmas shopping so much.

"Let's get a new Christmas tree topper!" I remember her squeal around the mall.

"But we just bought a new one last year," dad says, objecting.

"That was last year, this year is supposed to be different," she says.

"I agree," mom says, siding with her.

"I don't think it's necessary, though," I coldly say and they both scrunched their faces at me.

"Chelsea, I think it's time that you followed your elder sister's footsteps," dad says, placing his hands on my shoulders.

"What does that even mean?" Chelsea says with disgust. "She's just a few hours older than me!"

"She's definitely more mature than you, though," mom says and Chelsea's expression was priceless I can't stop my laughter.

She glares at the three of us before finally turning around, her arms crossed.

"That's it, I'm officially breaking up with this family," she says as if she truly means it.

This is one of Chelsea's talents, acting.

I remember how I always got scolded because of her when we were little. She always turns the story around and makes herself the victim. But that technique no longer worked on mom after a year or two.

"Okay, fine, we're getting a new topper," dad finally gives in, patting Chelsea's hard head.

Chelsea turns around right away and gives dad a hug.

"But I think Amelia gets to choose," mom says, putting her arm around my shoulders and giving me a wink.

"That's not—"

"What? Unfair!" Chelsea shouts as everyone around us turn their heads at us.

She huffs and walks away.

"Why did you have to say that, mom?" I whisper to mom whose arm was still around my shoulders.

"I feel like Chelsea's becoming such a spoiled brat and you're acting like someone a lot older than her," she replies.

"What does that even mean?" I say, giggling.

"I don't know, I feel like you're at least two years older than her," she explains, removing her arm around my shoulders and catches up with Chelsea who swiftly walks away.

Mom turns around and raises her arms as if to say "see?". I just laugh before jogging to catch up with them.

I grabbed Chelsea's hand and stopped her from walking.

"Let go of me!" she hisses and I just stare at her with serious eyes.

"Cut that out," I firmly say.

"Cut what out?" she stubbornly says.

"Face me," I tell her but she doesn't obey. "Chelsea, I said, face me."

I can feel her body shake as she slowly turns around to face me. Mom and dad look at me from a distance. Mom sticks out a thumbs up and dad just nods his head.

Her expression changes as soon as our eyes met. Chelsea and I are close but one thing's for sure, she gets scared whenever I become serious.

"Stop being a brat," I say and I can see how her eyes started to tear up.

"I'm n-not b-being a b-brat," she stammers, her voice shaking.

"Yes, you are and you better change," I tell her and that's when the tears escaped her eyes.

"I'm not!" she continues to object.

"We're not getting a new Christmas tree topper," I declare and that's when she shoots me a look. I raised my eyebrows at her as she looks down. "Okay?"

It took quite a while before she finally answered.

"Okay," she softly says.

"Good," I say, releasing her hand and walking away. "Now, let's get our cousins' gifts."

I headed for mom and dad who knew right away that I could handle the situation so they started talking to some saleslady who was selling some snow globes but before I could reach them, Chelsea calls out.

I turn to look at her, she was still standing still, her tears continuing to come out of her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she says, her shoulders shaking.

My heart softens as I saw her being such a baby. I walk to her and wrap my arms around her, placing her forehead against my shoulder.

"Stop acting like a baby, you're 17, aren't you?" I say, smoothing her hair down.

"S-sorry," she says, bawling.

"You're forgiven."

"Really?" she says, pulling away.

I grabbed my handkerchief from my pocket and wiped her tears away.

"Of course," I say.

"Are you mad?" she asks.

"I was and it was all in the past, for now, I think just a little bit," I say, smiling at her.

She smiles back, her eyes red and puffy.

"Thank god I have you," she says before pulling me in another hug.

I think I'm the one who should be grateful, Chelsea.