Another Christmas Eve alone.

You were the youngest sibling of the Dostoevsky family, a upper-middle class family. But.. Other than not having to worry about money? Your life's were not the best--...

Or, at least yours.

Everyone grew up before you, they all didn't want to play, beliving you were a nuisance, and your parents were done parenting.

All of your siblings moved out, except Fyodor. But he was never home, always out with Nikolai and Sigma.

... So here you were, holding back tears as you placed the box of ornaments out to decorate the tree that you had to put up for Christmas.

It used to be the best night of family gathering, decorating.. But.. Now it was so empty. You barely got a chance to take those moments for a cherished memory, you were so young.

... Alone. Again. And how it will always be.