Joanna's POV
Waking up on a Christmas morning just makes you feel excited and thankful to be alive to see yet another Christmas.
Do you know that feeling? That feeling which compels you to jump out of bed with a ready smile on your face. The smell of food coming from the kitchen, different aromas of different delicacies in the air. Yep, that's the Christmas spirit.
That Christmas morning, I walked down, or rather the perfect description was ran down the stairs.
It was a mission for me every Christmas morning, my destination being the kitchen and priority, food.
I waddled into the kitchen after I passed the living room, there I spotted mum all dressed up while she wiped the little stains off the sink, at the same time closing the pots of food before she placed them in the cupboards where she locked afterward.
I felt my heart shatter into a million, sorry, I think it was a billion pieces that turned my excited smile upside down into a frown.
"Morning mom, Merry Christmas." I greeted sadly, as I acknowledged I wasn't going to eat that morning.
"Why the sad --- oh." She started and began to chuckle as she shortly understood why I looked like a lost kitten.
"Sorry baby, you woke up late and it's almost time for church, I'm sorry."
I groaned at this and tried my luck with a puppy dog face even though I knew it didn't work on her, but I was desperate so I gave it my all, which came crashing down when she shook her head in response and rolled her eyes at my silly attempt to woo her.
"But, but mum, I'm hungry!" I whined.
"You just woke up a few minutes ago Joanna, you'll live." She scoffed. "Now shoo, you have twenty minutes remaining or we are going without you, and no don't even think about it, you are following us to church."
My mouth which was half-open in protest closed shut after she said those heart-wrenching words. Don't get me wrong, I love attending church but the fact I was going to one with an empty stomach on a Christmas morning made me want to cry.
"Dress nice," She ordered after I had turned my back to her and headed upstairs for my room.
"Why, why!" I wailed as I entered the room and banged the door behind me.
I then sighed in defeat hence I knew there was nothing I could do about it, and instead trudged to the wardrobe after my sighing fit and pulled out the dress my parents gave me money to buy specifically for Christmas day.
It was a tight-fitting elastic dress with horizontal colored stripes that ran from the neck to its tip.
We all go to church every Christmas morning, and that is a family tradition.
After I had gotten dressed I locked my room and sauntered down the stairs where I saw Dad who stood with his back to me in a well-tailored long-sleeved Ankara shirt and matching trousers, impatiently glancing at his watch every second.
Elvis himself was on his phone, stretched out on the sofa, eyes trained on the screen as I could sight his fingers type away on the keyboard. He was dressed in a long-sleeved colorful shirt and skinny jeans with black sneakers.
Mum was just finishing a glass of water and I took note of her attire that I hadn't observed earlier due to the heartbreak of no food.
She looked beautiful in a short-sleeved well-tailored dress made of the same material and color as Dad's. It was long and hugged her upper body before it flowed freely in a print style from her waist, down to her feet.
"Morning Dad, merry Christmas y'all," I spoke with a small smile as I walked up to dad, and offered him a hug while I gave Elvis a playful disgusted look behind dad's back.
"You too dear, now let's go before we get late," Dad said after we disentangled from the embrace, leading the way to the black range rover parked outside.
"Why so grumpy?" Elvis implored, a smirk on his face hence he already knew the reason but chose to taunt me.
"Shut up boy, you know how she is with food!" Mom called from the front seat as Elvis and I were both seated at the back.
Elvis just laughed in response and poked me playfully in the side as dad drove us to church.
***
The instant the car came to a halt in front of our house when we got back from church, I sped off like a rocket, only one target in mind, yes you guessed right, food.
"Where is it where is it?" I rambled in a question, my eyes scanning the kitchen in haste before it landed on the cupboard where mom kept the pots.
"Mum!" I yelled as I stormed out of the kitchen ready to murder anyone who stood between me and my food. Told you I was crazy.
"It's here foodie." Mom laughed and pointed at the dining table.
"Wait, how did that--, when did you?" I interrogated dumbfounded as I caught sight of the said food that rested in glass-covered plates on the table as I was sure I saw her put it in the cupboards earlier.
"I placed them there when you were having your bath, I was thankful you didn't see them there before we went to church," Mom responded.
Well, that explains it then. I thought before I grabbed a plate and dived in. Opening the covered plates, I took huge portions of white rice, stew, and chicken with salad.
After I was done piling my plate with food so high like mount Everest, I said my prayers and took a bottle of sprite from the fridge before I settled down to eat while mom and dad shook their heads in amusement as Elvis rolled his eyes at me before taking their seats.
The way I rushed the food would have made someone think I'd been starved for years, but the sad truth was I'd been starved, though not for years it was the same thing.
I was done enjoying the delicious Christmas dish when I stood up and walked to the couch, there I sat and pulled off the 4-inch red stilettoes which were killing me by the way, and slumped on the big empty couch.
I think I slept off at some point because I realized after I opened my eyes that the house was kind of quiet, this meant everyone was in their separate rooms doing their stuff.
I glanced down at myself and observed I was still donning the different colored horizontally striped dress.
It was a good thing though, as I knew my friends would call or badge in any moment and ask me to follow them to God knows where.
I crossed my legs and made myself more comfortable on the couch, after which I produced my phone from the small nude bag I placed it in before going to church.
Unlocking it, I decided to check my social media but stopped abruptly when I saw what flashed on the screen.
10 Missed calls, 8 messages.
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