I'm gonna be honest, I don't know WHY I'm writing this and I'm not sure if I'll finish it. But, if I do continue it I'd just like to say the first part of the story will take place before the movie and will lead up to it eventually.
Also, this is not a Grinch/OC fic. If anything, I hope to make it look more like an annoying brother and sister relationship between them.
Without further ado, enjoy my pile of holiday bullshit.
Bonus: Take a shot every time you read the word Christmas.
Ask any Who in Whoville and they'll tell you about the Grinch. No self-respecting Who would be caught dead of being ignorant of such a tale. Even so, like all great legends throughout time and history, things were forgotten and some stories were left untold.
This is the story of not just how the Grinch stole Christmas, far more than that. It's a story of an unlikely friendship. A story about a love no one would have expected to last the test of time. A story of envy and pride. And most importantly, a story of two misfits trying to discover their place in their world.
And to begin such a tale, we must go back to the very night when it all began...
"I want to go!"
"Harriette, no. You're too young for such an event."
Harriette frowned up at her father. "Papa, I promise I'll be good."
Her father shook his head as he placed his favorite red cap ontop of his balding head. "It's not the matter of you being good," The old Who explained. "It's just that with a party like that going on I'm afraid I'll lose you in the...Well, the madness!"
"But I promise I'll stick to your side." The girl insisted as her father began to walk out the door. "Look I've been practicing my puppy dog face! I think I've perfected it!" She wasted no time demonstrating it to him, puckering out her small lip and winding her large brown eyes.
The sight made the old Who laugh. "And why on earth, child, would you need to perfect that?"
Harriette grinned at this, giving him a knowing tap to her small button nose. "I figured if I make people feel guilty they'll want to buy more stuff from you, Papa."
Her father shook his head and kneeled down to his seven-year old's small height. "I know you want to help, dear, but you're only five. I don't need you worrying about such things. Besides, it's not right to make people feel guilty for not doing something for you."
The child nodded solemnly, looking down at her feet. "It's just...I just wanted to help so we can have a nice Christmas like the rest of town."
Ah, he thought. So that's what this is about.
Her father patted her wild blonde hair gently as he stood up. "There is more to Christmas then the decorations and presents, Harriette. Remember that."
She nodded and watched her father walk out of there small little house that was neatly tucked away on the side of Mt. Crumpit. Practically hidden away from the town since no one dared to come up the treacherous mountain but her father.
Harriette's father then walked over to a large wooden cart that was strapped to an equally old, skinny horse with knobby knees that appeared like they would give out any second. In the cart itself was what one would believe to be junk, well, refurbish junk.
He climbed up to the seat of the cart, taking one last time to look over to the small figure standing in the doorway. He tipped his cap to her and smiled, yelling out: "I'll be back before you know it! Stay inside where it's safe!" With that, he snapped his reins startling the old horse into motion.
Harriette watched the figure of her father's cart disappear around the corner of the mountain before closing the door. She leaned against the splinter infested frame of the door, giving a small sigh.
Another Christmas Eve without Papa. She thought.
Unknown to the child there was another Who that was alone on the exact same mountain. It was a boy who was a year older than her. He sat huddled up in the mouth of a cave that nearly reached the top of Mt. Crumpit with an ugly frown on his face as he watched the town below begin to light up as darkness drew nearer. He knew what this meant, especially at this time of year. Every Who would come out to celebrate Christmas Eve with their stupid Whobilation. It made his stomach turn as he thought about the meaningless 'festivities'.
The boy, you see, was not like any other Who. He knew this well since he was young and it wasn't just the fact that he hated the most beloved holiday of Who-kind. No. It was also the fact he was born covered in a layer of thick green fur.
Life wasn't easy for this fuzzball. Being taunted and humiliated almost every day of his life for something he couldn't change. And then there was this Christmas crap -oh, how the boy loathed it. He despised how like a light switch the Whos would go nuts after the last of the Thanksgiving leftovers were finished and go off preparing for that Holiday like the world would end if they didn't.
His bitter thoughts were interrupted by a sharp pain in his stomach. He grunted in discomfort as he clutched his rumbling belly.
"I can't be hungry." He said to himself. His body protested, insisting he was.
The boy frowned. When he had run away to here he didn't plan on how he would get his food. He had planned the elevator and the zip-line for the cave, but not that minor detail.
Getting up he walked over to the edge of a cliff that was at the mouth of the cave, even in the fading light he still had a good view of almost every little thing in the area. His yellow eyes scanned the mountainside hoping to find anything that would possibly supply him with food when he saw the most glorious thing he had ever laid eyes upon!
Well.
Besides Martha.
It was a dump. A large, beautiful dump rimming with fresh trash from those wasteful Whos.
At first, though, the boy was hesitant to go down there. True, he had a stomach that could withstand nearly anything but he still had standards. Even though they were very low, they were still considered standards.
But alas, standards came second to the pain in stomach and the boy began his trek down.
As the boy began his way down the mountain the little girl was still tucked away in her small shack of a home. She had grown bored within the short time her father had left. At first, she went through her picture books, attempting to practice her reading only to become frustrated with herself when she couldn't figure out certain words she was sure she knew. Then she tried to play a game of checkers with herself, but what was the fun in that when you would win no matter what? Finally, she had gone into her small trunk to play a bit of dress up with her clothes.
She stood now on the rickety old stool her father had crafted years ago to look at herself in a mirror. She held up the skirts of the dress her father had gotten her last year. It was too big then and it fit a little better now, with one sleeve sliding off a shoulder making the whole dress seemed lopsided. Her father had bought it for her a size or two too big, telling her that way she could slowly grow into it thus making the dress last longer. She didn't understand the logic behind this but didn't argue with her father. She was just thankful he had bought her such a pretty dress.
It was then, as she stood there looking at the dress something occurred to her. She had never really gotten her father a gift before. Each year since she could remember, he would just say she was his Christmas gift-but of course he was her dad. He was supposed to say stuff like that.
Little Harriette tapped her round chin, thinking to herself that she should surprise her Papa with a gift this year. But where on earth would she find on something for him? It took a minute for her small brain to work out the perfect solution.
The dump.
Yes, as odd as it seemed the girl thought it was perfect. After all, she and her father went there every so often to see if they could find anything to 'refurbish', as her father put it, so he could try re-selling it to the Whos who were looking for a last minute gift that was cheap and quick.
Making up her mind, Harriette was determined to find her father the best-blasted gift any seven-year-old could get for their parents from a pile of waste.
She slipped on her shoes, which were a size too small, and her coat that was filled with patches to cover up the worn out holes. She was ready to brace whatever mother nature had in store for her.
Before she went out she paused for a moment, remembering the cookies in the chill box that she made for Santa. She quickly scampered over and set them out with a glass of water, since they had run out of milk the night before. Eyeing the cookies greedily she snuck one in her pocket.
"Santa won't mind..." She told herself. After all, the man probably got to eat only one thousand cookies that night by the time he got there.
Happy now that everything was as it should be the naive little girl pulled open the flimsy wooden door and went out on the short trek to the dump to seek her treasure.
Now for a quick change of scenery. We go south of the mountain down into the small town of Whoville, a town that was, to put it mildly, fixated on Christmas. Of course, they celebrated other holidays; Easter, Day, Black Friday - a close second to Christmas, etc. Still, none held a candle to that one night each year when Santa would come in the night, break into your home and leave a pile of gifts for you to find the next morning.
Tonight was the night the Whos held their yearly Whobilation, to celebrate the final hours before Christmas Day arrived. The town was all set; decorations were up in full force, carolers dotted the street bursting with songs as people flooded the streets to go to the town square where they would go see who was this year's Holiday Cheermaster before all the different contests and festivities began.
Among these people was Harriette's father, Huebert Whomitt. Hue to friends. On his cart he could see over the sea of people, bustling back and forth before the events began. He would tip his hat and smile when people called out his name, wishing him a Merry Christmas. It touched the old Whos heart how warm and kind people got around this time of year.
Well, most people.
As he pulled his cart off to the side in the town's square he caught sight of the Mayor's family arriving to take place on the stage.
"Hurry up! Hurry up!" The Mayor's wife, Cornelia May-Who, snapped at her two children. "Oh, where is your blasted father?"
Cranking his head to get a better look he saw the two little May-Whos trailing behind her like ducklings; Augustus, a chubby boy of eight, and Lisel, a small child with large, square glasses.
But that still left...
"Hello, Hue." A warm, friendly voice said behind him.
Hue turned around with a lopsided grin on his weathered face. "Why, hello Mayor."
Now unlike many Mayor's in the past, Mayor Oliver May-Who was a fair and kind man. Perhaps too kind for his own good. He had thin, graying brown hair and large belly from indulging in one too many holiday sweets.
The Mayor patted the old horse gently and looked back to the old Who. "Tell me, Hue, what do you have in store today?"
Hue chuckled with a shrug. "Nothing but the usual, sir. A few coats that have been cleaned and sewn, repainted toys and a few more bobs and ends."
The Mayor nodded. "Try to keep a few toys me to look at. I might get Agustus and Lisele something."
Hue agreed to it with a laugh.
"I better get going now. If we don't start soon Cornelia will never let me hear the end of this." With that, the Mayor left to go join his family on stage.
When he was gone the old Who jumped off the cart and began to set up shop, not really taking much notice of how a few things in town were a bit 'off'.
As he began to pull out some of the coats he had Harriette patch up a group of women passed by, chattering and gossiping away.
"Did you hear what happened?"
"Oh, yes, how dreadful!"
"I heard he almost hit the Mayor's son with the tree!"
"I always knew he was a vile little monster."
"Quite right. Something was always off about that boy."
That made Hue stop for a minute, looking back as the group of women disappeared into the crowd. What curious conversation, he thought. And what was this about Oliver's son almost getting hit by a tree? Hue had half a mind to go over to him and ask him about it now but the band started up, letting everyone know the show was about to begin...
Back up on Mt. Crumpit, the two children made their way to the dump, both unaware of the other. The first to arrive was Harriette. The girl had been there many times before, to her this was her playground. A place full of hidden wonders buried underneath all the rubbish.
She walked carefully into the dump, jumping in fright as the garbage chute coughed up another round of last-minute garbage from town. Pulling herself together Harriette dived right in. Her father always spoke about how the Whos in town would throw away unwanted things right before Christmas Day to make room for the new items, so she was sure she could find one thing that would be perfect for her father.
Harriette decided to start from the back since all the newer things landed closer to the chute. The small child quickly disappeared behind a pile of bags, concealing her from the eyes of the boy who arrived soon after.
Cautiously he looked around. He didn't see anything or anyone, just a bunch of junk. Listening closely he could hear the faint clanks and clunks of things being moved around but he thought perhaps it was just some of the garbage giving out on the bottom of a pile. He wasted no time searching for food, the pain in his stomach getting worse with every passing second. The boy had never truly experienced hunger like this, his two 'mothers' had always doted on him- even if he was indifferent to their coddling.
While Harriette was careful not to make much noise the boy threw all caution to the wind. He tore through bags and shifted through cans, and bottles looking for something to eat.
Naturally, Harriette became startled by the noise. She tried to convince herself that it was just a small animal, like a raccoon or perhaps a fox looking for something, but her opinions changed as she heard grumbling.
"Something...There must be something..."
Seconds later she heard a loud smash and nearly jumped out of her boots from fright. Harriette knew the smart things was to run, to go back home and wait for her father-yet she didn't do that. Instead, a rush of curiosity overtook the child, making her peep her head out just a bit beyond the pile of trash to see what exactly was keeping her company.
Before she had the chance to get a good look the garbage chute gave out a warning call. Harriette didn't react quick enough as a garbage bag came flying out, nearly missing her. Harriette had jumped out of the way in time with a scream, but in doing so she had not only exposed herself but had startled the boy.
The boy's head shot up and as soon as he saw that he was not alone he gave a cry of surprise. What resulted was a screaming match of shorts, both children now startled by the other. Both of them ran to hide behind something, trying to make sense of what was happening.
For the boy, it was a mixture of surprise and irritation. He had came here to ESCAPE other children and other Whos for that matter. Why was there another person here of all places? He had never heard of a Who went near Mt. Crumpit unless they had a death wish!
For Hariette, after the initial shock had faded away what overtook was her natural sense of curiosity, which lead her to more trouble than she'd care to admit. Did this boy live up here? Was he friendly? So many questions buzzed in the girl's head that it almost made her dizzy.
Shaking her head, Harriette cautiously peaked out of her hiding place, looking around for the boy.
"Hello?" She called out. No answer. Harriette stepped out of her spot and began to slowly walk to the place where she had last seen the boy. "Are you still here?"
The boy didn't move, he didn't breathe. Why should he trust this girl? For all, he knew this could be another trick. Without thinking he ran a hand over his cheek, flinching as he felt the scabby cuts that blasted razor left behind.
"Please," The girl said in a tiny voice. "I'm not going to hurt you..."
The boy couldn't stop a snort from escaping him. He smacked a hand over his mouth, eyes widening as he waited for the sound of her footsteps to head his way.
He waited.
And waited...
He heard nothing. The boy hoped that perhaps the girl didn't hear him.
Well, he was wrong.
When he turned his head around the corner to see what was going on he was greeted by a pair of large brown eyes.
"Hi."
The boy jumped back with a scream. His hand dug into the soft, fresh snow and flung it at the girl's face. It had the desired effect he had hoped for. The girl was stunned, spitting out clumps of snow from her mouth and trying to swat it out of her eyes. While she was occupied with that the boy made his mad dash for freedom.
Quickly getting over the shock of the snow stinging her face, Harriette followed the boy, running as fast as her skinny legs would go.
"Wait!" She yelled as the boy picked up speed. "Please, wait!"
"Go away!" The boy screamed back in an odd, nasal-ish voice.
The boy had suddenly come to what he had feared; a dead end. Infront of him was a slab of rock that he would have to climb up if he wanted to escape the pesky girl. Sadly for him, Harriette was faster than he thought.
"Please!" Harriette panted out as she reached him, taking a minute to catch her breath. "I didn't mean to-"
"Go away!" The boy snapped once more. "Leave me alone!"
Harriette shrunk back from him. Her stomach tightened with embarrassment and a bit of shame. "I'm sorry..."
The boy only scoffed. It didn't matter to him if she was sorry or not, in a few minutes he would go back to his new home to have peace and quiet. With his back turned to her the boy began to climb up the rock slab, taking care to make sure he had a good grip on the icy surface.
Harriette watched him curiously, taking a step forward to get a better look. As she did she realized something that she didn't notice in the middle of the excitement. Either the boy was wearing a green fur coat underneath what looked like a uniform or it was he, himself, who was green.
"Where are you going?" She asked.
"None of your business."
"Don't you live in Whoville?"
The boy rolled his eyes, he would be glad to get away from the pesky child. "I said, mind your own-GHA!"
The boy lost his footing on a particularly slim edge and fell a few feet down onto his back. Harriette ran over to him, hovering over the dazed boy.
"Oh-are you alright?!" She asked, looking down at his...His green face?
The boy groaned something as he shook his head. Blinking his eyes a few times he focused in on Harriette's face, almost immediately noticing the perplexed look on it. He felt cheeks flare up as well as a bit of anger.
"Stop. Staring." He growled, catching the girl's attention.
Harriette complied quickly, giving him some space as he started to get up. "I'm sorry." She said again. "I...I was just curious-I've never seen-"
"Never seen what?" The boy challenged. "Never seen someone like this?" He waved a hand to his face, inviting her to get a good look. She didn't though. She looked off to the side, almost afraid he would go off on her if she did. To this the boy grunted, brushing past her. "Shouldn't you be down there with everyone else?"
Harriette looked up at him as he headed back to the dump. She was surprised he was still talking to her.
"No." She said, trotting after him. "I live here."
The boy snorted. "Yeah right."
She glared at the back of the boy's furry green head. "I do." She snapped. "I live up here with my Papa."
Great, he thought. I'll be seeing her often...Maybe I can move to another mountain.
Harriette ran up to him, trying to keep up with his quick strides. "Why are you up here? We never get any visitors."
"I live here."
Harriette tilted her head to the side. "Then why haven't I seen you?"
"Let me rephrase that," The boy sighed, going back to what he was trying to eat before he had so rudely been interrupted. "I moved here."
Harriette only nodded deciding it would be best not to press her luck. She stood by the boy as he bent down to pick something off the ground, wondering if he too was looking for something to give as a gift. That thought was wiped clear off her slate as she realized he was holding shards of broken glass.
"What are you-" She didn't have a chance to finish as the boy began to munch down the shards as if they were chips. She stood there in shock before sputtering out: "Yo-you don't EAT glass!"
The boy looked at her up and down. "Are you still here?" The boy grasped another piece of glass, ready to pop it into his mouth when he felt a sharp smack on his hand, knocking the glass out of it. He stood there looking from the glass to his hand and then to the one who smacked him.
"What's the big idea?!"
Harriette shook her head. "If you're hungry you should eat this."
The boy rolled his eyes. "Whatever it is you've got I don't-" He stopped when he saw her pull out the cookie. It was broken and crumbled, yes, but it still looked good enough to eat.
Harriette made a face when she saw the state the food was in and held it out to him. "Sorry that it's all-" She didn't have time to finish that thought. The boy's long, hairy fingers snatched the cookie right out of her hand and shoved it into his mouth with loud grunts and wet smacking sounds.
The girl suppressed a giggle with her hand. "You sure were hungry." The boy didn't answer, he was busy getting the last of the crumbs out of his fur when his stomach growled again. Harriette raised an eyebrow before an idea popped into her head. "If you like, I have more at home."
Now this caught his attention. "More?"
She nodded. "Yep. A whole big plate. You can come back with me and have some if you want to."
Maybe she's not useless after all, he thought.
The boy shrugged, not wanting to act too happy about the idea. "Sure, I guess..."
The answer was just she was looking for. Harriette gave him a wide toothy grin and grabbed his hand, catching him off guard with the sudden contact. "Come on then!" She laughed, dragging him behind her. "Oh, my name is Harriette!" She added, looking back to him. "What's yours?"
"Um..." The boy hesitated for a moment, wondering if she had heard about what had happened that day at school. In fact, he was wondering how she wasn't terrified of him when he was pretty much awarded the title as the school freak. "...Grinch..."
He braced himself for her to stop and look at him in terror or at the very least start to laugh at him, but it never came.
Harriette just quirked up an eyebrow, thinking how odd of a name it was. Yet again, she reminded herself, he was an odd boy. "Well, it's very nice to meet you Grinch." She said. "Now hurry up, I'm freezing my butt off out here."
Grinch was confused, to say the least. How had she not heard of him?