On the first day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
A partridge in a pear tree.
On the second day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree.
Those two verses. They were stuck in my mind. Ringing, mimicking me. Taunting me, laughing at me. Christmas. Bah. It was just a joke now. It was the world banding together to be selfish. It was the one season of every year that the worst in people beat out the best.
I continued to look on, dazed, as my house burned. Flames licked from the windows, having tasted the wonderful texture or fabric in curtains. The house was a modern home, it had a foundation of cement, a brick chimney, and a brick front side, but the rest was wood. Not much would be left of he country home. I had four more bottles. Whiskey, Rum, Strawberry Rum, and Chardonnay. I'm not sure why I still had the chardonnay. Taking one of my ripped pieces of cloth, I shoved it into the whiskey bottle, and a second into the strawberry rum. Her favorites were Strawberry Rum and Chardonnay. Pulling out my lighter, I caught the flimsy material that peeked out from the top of the rum and whiskey bottles. I made sure the flame had caught good and well before I launched one, then the other, into the second story, crashing the glass bottles through glass window panes.
Screaming. Female screaming. I was watching her die, her her every bit of agony. Even though I had been there far too late. We'd been out on the town, purchasing presents for family members.
On the first day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
A partridge in a pear tree.
On the second day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
Two turtle doves,
And a partridge in a pear tree.
It was cruel, Fate. We had just left a place where we were warned of this gang. Living near the small city we did, we thought we'd be fine. After all, we had each other. I'd left her for a moment, so she could shop inside some store at the outlet mall we were at, and I went to the rest room nearby. It was only eight in the evening, not at all crime's peak hour. But as I exit the restroom, wiping extra moisture from washing my hands onto my pants, I hear her scream. I hear scream again and again. She's in one of the impossibly small alley's between the outlet malls. I can see people in shops nearby are looking around, not really overly concerned. They probably thought she was screaming about something else. People these days never check anymore. As I round the corner, I see five men surrounding her, two have items and her purse that they are rummaging through, looking for goods and money. A third is holding her down, on top of her, his knees pinning her thighs and his hands holding her arms high above her head. She writhed and screamed as a fourth man was kicking her, and telling her gruffly to shut up, or they'll kill her. It didn't shut her up.
I glared at the house as it burned. I hated this world. I hated this world's people, and I hated myself. I wished for more. MORE! I had screamed and cried out to God. I had gone to his Sanctuaries, to Churches for three days and three nights. I have not eaten, and I have prayed. I cannot live anymore. So I will destroy what I can, and then I will destroy myself.
On the first day of Christmas,
my true love sent to me
A partridge in a pear tree.
On the second day of Christmas...
I had taken the whole scene in within five seconds, the fifth man was the guard. I was only feet from him, and he noticed me when I realized what was happening. I charged at him, expecting my strength and small amounts of training in martial arts to kick in when we locked into battle. "JUDA!" I screamed, my voice cracking like it would have done ten years ago. I barged into the man, forcing him to stumble at my headlong rush as my shoulder jammed into his chest, he coughed, but whipped out a switch blade and made sure it was visible. I had no weapons, but I grabbed at his arms and tried to force him down. "Rohil!" Juda cried, screaming. By now people in near by shops realized something was wrong. I heard someone behind me say, "Oh my god! Call nine-one-one! Someone!" I also heard someone else berate someone for taking video with their phone of the action. Once I had listened to all this, the five bad guys realized it was time to make a break for it. "Oh my god he's got a gun!" Some shrill voiced woman said. Before I recognized what was going on, still grappling with my guard man, I heard one shot fire. Juda went silent, as the crowd began to scream. I yelled, enraged as my target slipped away from me and ran down the alley. BANG! BANG! BANG! Three more shots, one hit me just on the edge of the arm, the force of the bullet harder and stronger than a shove from a sumo wrestler. I pressed on the few scant feet to Juda. More screaming. Then wailing sirens wailing. I was at Juda now, and though it was dark in the alley, I could see the blood pooling behind her, a bullet clean through her forehead.
I don't remember much after that. I was shocked, not physically, I wasn't sick. At least, I didn't think so. December 13th, 2002. I'll remember that day forever, un-to the day I die. I don't think that day is coming very soon, either. It was a Friday. Lucky or no, it had become a day of blood for me. And on that day, on a Friday the Thirteenth on any December, I vowed I would have my sweet, sweet revenge. Today's date was Christmas. It might look like my own home had burnt down because of a Christmas tree fire. Officials won't investigate too far, however, as there aren't going to be any bodies inside. The only people who lived in that house have already been dead. They died on the Second Day of Christmas.
Hey guys- I'm kinda new to - if you can't tell by my naked profile. However I'm a lot less new to writing. I'm pretty excited, I've always, ALWAYS got stories churning in my head, but I never get enough motivation to finish them. So maybe if enough people motivate me, I'll be good. :3