“Did you have to knock her out?” My mom asked.
“I can’t control my anger sometimes,” I said as I poked Marias’s forehead as she lay on the ground unconscious.
“Just like your father,” she muttered.
“She wasn’t always this bad, but I guess she just has a hatred for us. Too bad I didn’t get to ask her anything else,” I said as I left the house. Walking down the street once again looking like someone else made everything easy. I felt like I was forgetting something as we didn’t see any kids playing out in the snow. Then I stopped and looked at my mom.
“It’s Christmas!” I shouted as I just realized.
“I hadn’t realized. We have never really celebrated Christmas. Just your father and I, the rest of the pack held their own traditions together,” my mom looked sad as she spoke.
“Was it
