DUSK-DECEMBER 25, 2017
James dreaded Christmas. Nothing had gone right for him any other time of year, so why would things go well now? His soul typically optimistic when the holidays came in hopes of maybe getting a secret Santa, he shook his head. He had just gotten up from a nap, he put on his favorite pajamas, his short blonde hair did not need combing, he rubbed his blue eyes and made his way down the stairs.
The living room presented a medium-sized Christmas tree, complete with lights, ornaments and a star on top-but, not a single gift. The floor a mess, the place smelt of smoke and alcohol.
His fifty-year-old father sits in his leather recliner, wearing a white tank top and shorts, his stomach hung out, his balding head and entire body dirty and unkempt.
The fourteen-year-old cleared his throat, maybe he had caught his dad in a good mood. Hark! The Herald Angels Sing played from the TV, the large choir sounding so angelic.
The window facing the outside world, getting covered in heavy snow. The wind could be faintly heard. The sky a pinkish color as the sun began its descent, James never quite spoke up loudly, he tried to keep his voice as even as possible. “Dad? Are we going to go out for Christmas? Maybe?” Mike, the father stretched and went to the kitchen, nearly bumping into his son. “Go to bed. You’re not getting anything this year anyway.” His voice cold and distant, his words slurred. He got nasty when he had too much booze. James sighed deeply, trying to keep his discomfort and depression pinned down. James knew his mother’s death had taken a toll on his dad, it was no secret he only liked her for her looks. Her having a kid was something Mike was never fond of.
He chugged more of his liquor, standing, looking coldly at his son. “You’re nothing but a nuisance. Feeding you is a pain, waste of my money, but I kept you to keep your mom. She was sexy.” He paused and hiccupped. “She should have had that abortion.”
This was the last straw for James. The cold comments, the nastiness, the vindictive heart. The teen threw on a pair of shoes, snatched his wallet and headed out the front door. The cold was more inviting than the evil nature of his dad.