A/N: Super late Christmas story. My body has been like, down for two weeks due to my great grandmother's passing. So, here it is. A Christmas story in January. – Marian

A Christmas With My Dad

It's three hours and fifty-two minutes before Christmas. I threw my head back against the headboard and took in the silence in my room. Dull, boring silence. I looked out of the window and saw Christmas lights being switched on, one after the other. I shook my head at the sight. Ever since my mother passed away, the thought of a colorful Christmas never crossed my mind. The thought became non-existent to me when dad called a few weeks ago saying that he is going to be pretty busy that he might not make it. Well, fuck it. I do not care anymore. I got out of my room and ran downstairs. I went inside the kitchen and opened the fridge. I grabbed a can of Pepsi then slammed the fridge door shut, making it shake slightly. I turned my attention to the cabinet where most of the snack items I bought a week ago were stacked. I opened it and took two bags of Cheetos, therefore, ruining my diet. I took hold of my pre-Christmas snack and headed to the living room. I plopped down the couch and reached for the remote. After pressing the buttons and watched the channels change after every second, I finally settled with what seemed to be a rerun of Saturday Night Live. I looked at my wristwatch, three hours and forty-four minutes to go, I thought to myself. Honestly speaking, it does not feel like Christmas Eve at all. I closed my eyes, then opened them again and set them on the untouched can of Pepsi that sat on the rectangular glass table in front of me. I popped the lid open and took a long swig. I put it back on the table and then reached for the Cheetos bag, ripped it open and then put some of it in my mouth. I rolled my eyes then closed them. Before I knew it, I already fell asleep with the lights and the TV on.

"Vera."

I stirred slightly, but did not open my eyes. "Vee, c'mon wake up." My eyes fluttered as I looked up. I rubbed my eyes and then narrowed them as the blurry figure of a person started to get clear.

"Dad?" I said weakly.

As the image got clearer, my eyes lit up. It was my dad, Phil Brooks, more popularly known as the WWE Champion CM Punk. I got up from the couch and smoothed out the wrinkles of dad's Rancid hoodie which I got from his closet before he left four weeks ago,

"So that's why I could not find it." Dad said, letting a chuckle escape from his lips as he ran a hand over his slicked-back hair. A chuckle escaped from my lips, too as I took off the hoodie and stuck it out. "Nah, you can have it for the moment. Now, go change. We'll head out and we're gonna hang out." I looked at my watch and it read 00:30. I looked up at dad and said, "Really dad? At 12:30 midnight?"

"It doesn't matter." He patted my back. "Go change."

"Okay, if you say so dad." I replied with a shrug. I ran upstairs and headed to my room. I opened the closet and pulled out a pair of skinny jeans, a plain black shirt, and a black and white checkered scarf, knowing that it's gonna be cold outside. I stripped myself of the hoodie, the old shirt, and the sweatpants. After getting dressed, I put on my black pumps and got my black cardigan from the coat hanger. I ran downstairs and saw dad still on the same spot.

"You're gonna be wearing those?" dad raised a brow as he shifted his attention to my pumps.

"I'm gonna be fine with these dad." I rolled my eyes and pushed him to the door. I opened it and gently pushed him outside. I closed the door behind me and then we walked on the sidewalk. I felt dad putting his arms around my shoulders, which made me feel very safe.

"I though you're gonna be busy." I told dad, breaking the ice.

"So you think I was going to choose work over you during Christmas? C'mon. Why would I do that? If I did not miss out on your birthdays, on your graduation, and on the rest of your special days, what made you think I'd miss out on spending Christmas with my baby girl? "Dad replied, looking down at me.

"Thanks dad." I smiled. He ruffled my hair, which made me frown a little bit, and then he pulled me closer to him. As we walked, my eyes looked at the scenery around us. I took in the sight of happy couples and happy families. The part about happy families made me frown a little bit but I immediately let a smile take over. Dad and I, we're a family. Even though mom's not here. Suddenly, we stopped walking. We stood in front of 7-Eleven, which made me look at my dad in confusion. I raised a brow, waiting for him to answer.

"Vee, I have missed out on a lot. We could discuss stuff over Pepsi and ice cream."

I smirked at dad's mention of Pepsi and ice cream. Obviously, I got the Pepsi addiction from dad. He even jokingly convinced me to have a Pepsi logo tattooed on my arm, which mom disapproved.

"Sure thing, dad." I replied.

I thank my dad for everything. Because of him, I realized that the simple joys in life can be obtained in stuff we do every day, even drinking three cans of Pepsi in one night. I also have to thank him for the things he has done for me ever since mom passed away. I feel happy that I got to spend Christmas with my dad, but I wish mom was here. Oh, right. She's watching over us. She's probably telling dad right now, "Phillip Jack Brooks. How many times do I have to tell you not to give Vera a can of Pepsi and a bowl of ice cream during midnight? It's not healthy, Phil!" Oh, how I missed those stuff. I chuckled at the thought. If I told that to dad, he'll probably tell me, "Vera Mae Brooks, do not dare give me a heart attack with your imaginations!"

Oh, joy! Well, merry Christmas, everyone. I hope you all have a best in the world one.