Objective: I don't own anything. My job doesn't even pay me enough to consider it.

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A woman drags a screaming child away from a display of small screened video games, a man hints to his wife that he wants a television and a young man hints to a young woman that he wants to buy her a wedding ring and propose to her; she knows and side-steps every attempt.

All these displays make me sick! Christmas! What a bogus holiday to get something that doesn't mean anything. If I received a television for Christmas I'd punch a hole right through it and use it as a wristwatch and then I'd punch whoever got it for me.

But that's not possible. I don't have anybody. My stupid doof of a brother went MIA. I wonder if he is even alive. He probably went and got himself killed doing something stupid. I don't want to do that anymore. The only thing we got out of that is a miserable life of being controlled by a psychopath and doing his dirty work.

And by doing that mess, we were consumed by a monster that was only bent on making himself stronger. If that kid didn't destroy him I would've done it from the inside out.

At least I'm free. If it wasn't for Krillin, I would have been cast aside and not even buried.

Whatever.

The man gives up trying to persuade the girl on choosing a wedding ring and settles for buying her a pair of hoop earrings bigger than her fist; something else to drag the stupid human down.

I tuck strands of hair under my knitted hand and take off into the sky. If I have to watch another pathetic attempt at buying a gift, I will have to go over there and blast the woman and then the stupid man for putting up with her.

The air is cold and the winds bite at my face. Heavy clouds are already gathering in the sky. It's going to snow soon and then they will panic; oh, a little snow! It's not like they are going to rust or anything.

I might. Somewhat.

In the distance I am distracted by the smell of pine in the air. The smell always reminds me of Seventeen. He liked to blast trees and make woodchips. He made them fall as if they were snowflakes. They didn't feel like snowflakes, nor have the appeal.

I'm looking forward to the snowfall. I haven't been able to enjoy it in so long. No longer am I on a mission, nor do I have to worry about anyone chasing me. Now, I can be happy and maybe even settle down in a location where I can have a home and a closet full of clothes. And shoes. I don't have to worry about leaving them behind to go after someone I am programmed in my head to kill.

Every time I think about how we fell into that trap I just want to punch myself in the face.

I land in the tree farm, in the betweens and walk through. My hands casually brush bristled branches. It doesn't hurt and is actually comforting. It reminds me of just having the company of my brother; even though he could be annoying and childish at times.

But to have him eaten up and then have the terror of being next, I wish I could've prevented it!

Ugh, why do I even care? He hasn't even made a speculation of himself to let me know that he is alive. I haven't seen any cars being blown up, or even humans running in the fear of him. He loved the attention. That was his downfall, even as we were kids. He just loved to be the center of attention, whether he was showing off, fighting or just being somewhere he wasn't supposed to be.

Now I know it was wrong. It's too late now, but it's never too late to learn a lesson.

I pick up on a power level that is above any human's on the whole tree farm, and its familiar; Krillin. He is the one who saved me; the one who wanted me to stay and join his rag-tag group. I never gave him an answer, but the answer is 'no.' I don't want to be around people who I've wanted to kill and who wanted to kill me. The little man never had the intention once he laid eyes on me. I don't know why.

Even though my energy is low to conserve in this weather, I lower it even more and watch from between trees as he inspects a tree. It has a balance of branches and a perfect point at the top to put a star on top. In my youth, we had a tree at our home, which was decorated unimaginatively. Now, there is no tree, there are no decorations and there is no home. Seventeen made sure to rid of it when our 'new lives' started.

Even when he's not here he gets me so upset.

Seeing the tree as perfect, he finds one of the Farm hands with an ax to chop it down. Silly man can do it himself. One little blast and he can have that sucker cut clean. Instead, he stands there in a hat and scarf and watches the man chop, chop, chopping away. The wood is splitting and it's sloppy. It drives a nerve inside of me that I cannot even continue to watch the site. I walk through the trees watching squirrels chase each other through the maze. A few families look for trees as well. One family, a man and woman watch in horror as the two small kids chase each other with branches as if they are swords. When the "swords" don't swing they rip more branches from the trees.

They run past me, but not fast enough. I extend my leg and the boy goes face first flying into a tree and the little girl stumbles right into him. The parents look at me horrified and with not much change to my facial features I give them a flat, "you're welcome." Their shocked eyes don't leave me until the children break out into screaming fits.

Well, they should not have ripped the branches off the trees in the first place. In a way, the trees are fighting back. I wish that everytime that man took the ax to the tree, they'd slap him back. One quick blast and it's done. The tree couldn't even consider fighting back.

"That wasn't very nice."

My eyes narrow and cast to the side where Krillin is standing. He is treeless. I wonder if he couldn't stand the man butchering the tree he had picked out.

"Why didn't you just cut the tree down yourself?" I demand. No answer to his question, I impose my own.

He stands taller, even though it isn't enough. He crosses his arms. "It's better that way. It's all about getting into the season. It's the man and his wife's tree farm. For them to feel the pride in what they've accomplished, they cut the trees and net them for you to take home. It's their way of having a piece of their livelihood in homes all around."

"That's such a waste of time. You could've sliced through the trunk and carried that tree away before they knew what was going on. Why go through all the work that can be accomplished so quickly?"

The man, as if knowing we are talking about him, comes up to Krillin and hands him the tree all netted and clean. The trunk is even shaped up. More work than it needed to be. He could've saved himself some time.

But I guess that's what you get from pathetic humans.

Krillin gives him more money than is intended for the tree. The man smiles, they offer greetings and he walks away. With the tree slung over his shoulder, his attention goes back to me.

"For that. See how happy he was?"

"No." My attitude doesn't change. Why care for other's above yourself? You are the only one you've got. He wouldn't care if it came to sell off the lively hood of what Krillin worked for.

"That's the difference between us then. Have a nice day." He gives a small wave and a smile that doesn't reach his eyes and heads off into the direction of small stores to buy refreshments and decorations for the trees.

I frown. I'm not like him. I'm not like any of them. I don't fight for the greater good. I fight for myself. I fight for survival. On my own, I don't care if this man sells his trees and obtains enough to live on. I have nothing to live on. I was spit up from a monster. I did not do anything to stop the monster. I just made it worst. I let him get me.

But, the only one to care was Krillin. He didn't care that I was fighting on his side. He wanted to save me anyways.

So why can't I do something for him? Or even for somebody else? I wish I could show him that I can be selfless, even once. Once is all he will get for saving me.

For even caring for what happened to me, and what was to become of my future.

I head in that direction. From the window on the door I watch him laugh along with the woman selling the ornaments. She must be the wife of the farmer. She laughs and points to an ornament of purple and red and goes off on a story.

I've seen an ornament like that a long time ago. It sticks in my mind. It must be of some importance, but like the rest of the important memories of my past, I don't remember.

He doesn't buy that one. He chooses red and white balls and silver tinsel. He pays for them and loads them up.

I move away and back into the trees where that family still stands. The children have stopped crying. They have started a snowball fight with one hitting the mother right in the face. She wants to cry. She tries to tell them that they need to behave, but she might as well be talking to the non-fighting back trees. The trees won't hit those who rip its branches off and she won't hit those kids.

They run off again. She doesn't try to go after them and neither does the father. I follow them through the trees and jump out at them. They both stop in horror at the site of me.

Seventeen would love this, but I'm not doing this for him. I'm doing it for Krillin, and even the mother who should be smacking some sense into these annoying human children.

"Listen up, otherwise I will do more than send you flying."

They look at me unblinking. At least I have their rapt attention.

"If you do more than make your mother frustrated you and you will both hang from your hair grom Christmas trees. There will be two brats instead of stars. Do I make myself clear?"

They both nod.

"Good. Now get back over there and stand still. You touch more than a tree and I will cut off your hands and eat them."

They both run away scared. I watch from a distance as the kids stand there like mini soldiers.

The mother looks around for some kind of clue, but then just gives up and looks relieved. They choose a tree and the man sets to butchering it.

The old lady in the store smiles at me when I enter. I bite down everything inside of me from doing what I want to do, and instead say, "I don't have any money. There is a red and purple ornament over there that brings back memories of my childhood. What kind of work can you put me to do that I can earn that ornament."

She smiles at me.

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Krillin lives on an island. In the middle of the islandb it does not snow. The snowstorm that started up after the work I completed stays well inland.

I land without concealing my power level. I want him to know that I am here.

His level is low. The window opened wide reveals that he sleeps on the couch. The television is on, but the volume is low. A news channel that reaches out here talks about "Hero" Hercules and his latest victory. A young girl next to him doesn't look too excited to be there with cameras flashing in her face. She looks at too many colorful bracelets on her wrist.

He slumbers lightly. The tree is set in a stand with water. There is no skirt under it, just clean hard wood floor. The decorations are on it, and there are strands of lights hugging it from all around. They are powered on by a cord plugged into the wall. There is not another sight of decoration in the whole room.

Landing softly, it doesn't disturb him. His energy remains smooth. I walk over to the tree on light feet and place the ornament at the top. As far as I can tell he is the only one in the small island home right now. Who's to say there is anyone else here? There could be a small child who wants to break it or use it for pretend fighting.

I'm not going to tell him out loud. The ornament is proof that I can be, even if it's just a tiny bit selfless like he is. He'll probably come to the conclusion where it came from, and he'll probably think I stole it, but it's there for a real reason….even if I only know it.

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Merry Christmas!