Hehe. I wrote. Even if someone reads half of this long piece I’ll be greatful 
Christmas Dinner
Saturday evening. I tightly grip the handle of my door, not daring to turn it. I just kept staring at my newly manicured nails, embellished with matte black nail polish. Why black polish? It matched my dress. Why a black dress? Because it was a Christmas evening, the time of the year I hate the most.
“Emily, please come down dear, everyone’s waiting for you!” My mom’s sugar coated words. Somewhere beneath which “Come downstairs right now or you will embarass us by being late” was hidden. I swallowed those thoughts away, actually pushing a lump down my throat. ‘Here goes nothing’ I take a deep breath and take a step towards the living room. I hate it, I hate the very idea of family dinners. What’s the point of pretending everything’s alright when its not?
I arrived downstairs dreading the actual atmosphere even more. I feel suffocated, I want to run away outside and finally breathe, the air of freedom. Everyone looks at me and my dress, and I felt them go slowly silent, the plastic smiles pasted on their faces turned to frown for a fraction of a second. Or at least thats how I imagined it, when the sounds of the Christmas hyms from the neighborhood suddenly seemed to get louder. I quietly sit on one of the empty chairs, between my brother and my cousin. “There comes the black sheep of the family, dressed perfectly in black” My brother jokes. A small giggle from my cousin, everything goes back to normal. Fake normal, to be precise. I can smell everyone’s feelings beneath, all the jealousy, lies, pretending being a perfect little family. Little did they know, this pretending isn’t enough for us young generation. We know what’s going on behind the scenes.
I stare at the empty chair in front of me. It wasn’t always empty, only since the last 3 years. My eyes are then set at the pearl white plate in front of me. I can see my own deformed reflection in it. Then it happens. My reflection dissolves into hers.
If only she was here, this would be so much more bearable, with her by my side. ‘I miss you so much’ I whisper under my breath, blocking all the external noise. A tear falls on the plate, and her reflection disappears. “You may have killed yourself, but I will never forget the part these people played in your death”
My mom pushes the empty chair away, as if she was a nobody, making her absence even more prominent. Reminding me, my twin sister had left us forever.