Notes:- Hey there! This story came to me whilst I was finishing off the next chapter of The Facility Endgame. It's my first story without Leon!
First Christmas
It isn't until I look at the clock that I realise I've been standing here for nearly three hours. It's nearly seven am and for nearly seven hours its officially been Christmas Day. I look over behind me at the bed and see that she's still asleep.
Before I know it, a heavy sigh escapes my lips. I'm so tired and pretty much every muscle in my body aches. Three hours ago I got in from my shift at the bar. Christmas Eve is a big night for the drinkers and the bar was packed with people celebrating the holidays. My job is to circulate and pick up empty glasses, clean up spilt drinks and take food orders. I guess I do a good job because tonight my boss gave me a tip. He wouldn't be so generous if he knew that I'd lied about my age in order to get the job.
During the day I work at the local supermarket bagging groceries and, of course, winter is the perfect time to go door to door, offering to sweep driveways for a couple of dollars. And it's all for her. For Claire. For my baby sister.
Christmas will never be the same again. Not since that fateful day last year when I came home from hanging out with my best friend Billy to find the cops on the doorstep. Our parents had been driving home when their car had skidded on black ice. They'd collided with an oncoming vehicle. They hadn't stood a chance.
The social workers descended on us at the hospital. I heard phrases such as 'temporary home', 'emergency care' and 'ward of the state' banded about and decided there and then that it wasn't the life I wanted for my sister.
I waited until they left us alone and then we escaped. She was still howling for our parents and fuck, I wanted to break down like that but I couldn't. I was her older brother. I was the one responsible for her. I was the only one who could provide for her now.
We stopped by the house one last time and threw a few things into bags. Well, I threw a few things into bags. She floated through the house like a ghost, her trembling fingers stroking the celluloid images of our parents in every room. I knew she took one of those photos and I know that she takes it with her everywhere we go. I didn't take any photos. All I saw when I looked at them were their faces, cut and bruised from the crash as a police officer pushed me to identify them as they laid side by side in the morgue.
I took what little money I could find around the house and we skipped town. We've kept moving since then, from motel to motel. It's just easier that way. Nobody seems to ask questions, no comments about how young we look to be out of our own. I guess it's because none of them really care. All the motel managers care about is that we pay for the room.
This is going to be our first Christmas as orphans. It's not fair. Claire's still only a kid. Fourteen years old. She should be waking up right about now, rushing down a flight of stairs to a huge bedecked Christmas tree loaded with presents. She should be eating chocolate until she wants to puke. She shouldn't be waking up in some mouldy hotel room with only her eighteen year old brother for company.
I've done my best with what I've got. Before my shift at the bar last night I managed to pick up a small Christmas tree that was going for half price because it's a little ragged around the edges. I stole some of the decorations from the bar and managed to scrape the cash for some lights but it's still a pretty sad affair as it sits in the corner of the room looking almost apologetic for its state.
In previous years, Mom and Dad went all out on gifts for her. Clothes, make-up, books, CDs, you name it, they bought her it. Compared to that, my effort this year seems pathetic in comparison. Still, I managed to save up a little bit of my wages each week for the last month so that I could afford the solid silver photo frame that I've hastily wrapped in yesterday's newspaper. At least she'll be able to keep that photo safe in that.
I'm not sure where Christmas dinner is going to come from. I think there's a diner nearby that's open. With a bit of luck I'll be able to rustle up some turkey sandwiches. My mouth waters as I think about the feasts Mom used to cook up for Christmas day.
Still. I'm determined that next Christmas will be better. I've got a plan. We can't live like this forever. I want to provide a good home for Claire and I know that she wants to go to college. She needs a decent roof over her head and she needs to get back into school so she can achieve that dream. I phoned Barry Burton a couple of days ago and he's promised to help me sort something out for her. He's helping me fill out the forms so that I can join the Air Force. I need a steady job with a half decent wage so that I can start a college fund for Claire.
"Chris"?
Claire's awake, sitting up in her bed and blinking up at me. She rubs her eyes and flicks her reddish brown hair out of her eyes. It's getting a bit too long but she's sworn that she'll chop up my leather jacket if I try to cut it for her. She might be younger than me but I know not to mess with her. Besides, she claims to like her hair longer.
"Hey Sis" I grin at her. She shoots me a concerned look in return. She's not stupid. I guess I look as tired as I feel.
"Hey"! She suddenly sits up properly. "It's Christmas morning"! She offers me a smile. It took her months to start smiling again so it's always great to see it. Even better when its aimed at me. It reminds me that I'm not the total failure that I sometimes think I am.
"Sure is Sis"
"Oh cool! A tree"! She leaps out of bed and thunders towards the tree. "And a present"! She squeals as soon as she clocks the messily wrapped parcel. She snatches it off the floor and hugs it her chest as she jumps back on the bed. She looks like a little kid again as she prods and shakes it, trying to guess what it could be.
"Merry Christmas Claire"! I say as I flop down on the bed next to her. As soon as I get my energy back I'll have a look at the black and white TV that's in the corner. See if I can bring it back to life again so we can catch some of the cheesy Christmas specials. Watching the Christmas specials is a Redfield tradition.
"Chris"! She's opened the present now. "It's beautiful…" Her fingers trace the embossed hearts. She rummages under her pillow and pulls out the crumpled photo she took from the house. I look away. I don't want to see it. Not today. When I dare to look back again, Claire's holding something out in her palm. It's a tiny package, wrapped in another page of the same newspaper I used for hers.
"You got me something"?
"Of course I did"! She rolls her eyes at me. "Check it out then"! She thrusts the parcel into my hands. "You want me to go and get some breakfast"?
"Nah. We'll go together" My hands are shaking as I tug at the paper. I didn't expect any presents this year and it's hard to control my emotions as I open up the lovingly wrapped gift, done with so much more style than my ham-fisted attempt. When I can finally get my hands to work, the parcel opens and something drops into my lap.
"It's kind of like a friendship bracelet" Claire explains, her cheeks going red. She knows that I think stuff like friendship bracelets are seriously lame girls stuff. But this one, this one is different. I look closely at it. Made of plaited grey and black suede, it's obvious she's put a lot of work into it. I hold out my wrist and she ties it on, her blush giving way to a smile that's full of pride. I'm never going to take it off. "Come on"! She punches my arm. "No more mushy stuff ok? I'm starving"!
"Ok, Ok" I get off the bed and grab my wallet. "Let's go get some eats"
As we leave the motel and head for the diner I'd like to think that wherever Mom and Dad are now they're having a good Christmas too.
THE END.