Cece-Mas

Prompt: Write about a holiday celebration - any holiday, real or imagined!

I decided to use this prompt as an opportunity for doing some character study for my novella, so here's a little look into Cece's head

I don’t keep up with the goings on of Earth very much. As far as I’m concerned, I left the planet of my birth behind me a long time ago. Why dwell on our boring little corner of the universe when there are so many more interesting places to explore? It’s not like there’s much there I can’t find some equivalent or better substitute for somewhere across space and time. Besides, do you know how difficult it is to keep track of dates and times when you’re constantly jumping from planet to planet? Let me assure you, it’s not easy.

But…I have to admit, I do try to keep track of when one day, in particular, is coming up: Christmas Day.

Oh, don’t give me that look. I’m not going to start going on about ‘Christmas Magic’ or anything like that, but do you really expect me to complain about a day for getting presents and playing in the snow? Plus, it is the birthday of a pretty special kid.

No, not Jesus! Me! Cecelia Henrietta Phillips: born at 12:55 AM on December 25th, 17 Earth-Years ago.

I know a lot of Christmas babies lament having to share their birthday with one of the biggest holidays of the year, but I’ve never really minded it. It would mean my parents and the rest of the station crew often took a day off and the normally strict structure of the place would relax a little. I’d be spoiled by just about everyone there and practically become Captain for the day. My parents, especially, always made it a special day for me. I never felt like the holiday overshadowed me. Rather, it felt like the holiday was for me somehow.

Of course, there hasn’t been much celebration to be had for the last five Earth-years or so. The station being raided and ultimately decommissioned and my parents disappearing kind of put an end to that. Not many presents, games, or honorary captainships to be had when you’re alone and running for your life. It’s probably exactly as depressing as you’d think.

Still, I keep track of it. I’ve asked myself why so many times these past few years, and the practical answer is that I’d still like to know how old I am, even if time is kind of meaningless. Sometimes that information is important. But maybe I also have a little bit of sentimentality in me. Just a smidge. Just enough to want to hold onto those memories and try to recapture the feeling still, in any way I can. Enough that - no matter where I am - I find myself some good food, good drinks, and good times and remind myself just how much I love being alive.

And enough that when I return to Xymera around this point and find Asho has somehow been keeping track too and left a present waiting for me in my room, I almost have tears in my eyes.