Merry Christmas Everyone: Cenitopius' Christmas Special

Merry Christmas Everyone is a dark story, written from the point of view of a boy who's been so ruined by his environment, so twisted in the head by all the bad society has done to him, and yet he carries on trying to help the people around him. It's also about a dead family. It's about his girlfriend to whom he can't get closer than 6 feet away because she's six feet under, and a family that rests around her. It's about a man who's trying to freeze himself up in the hopes that the ice will be less fragile than him; who's strong, but weakened; who wants so hard to embrace death, but can't because he'd never be able to face the dead. This is something I started on the 20th of December, 2013. I ran out of gas after Christmas when one too many problems happened and I ended up leaving it behind. I started again this year and still couldn't write it all in time, so we'll see how it gets finished off over time.

0Likes
0Comments
160Views
AA

1. The 20th of December

I've never been one for the whole Christmas celebration, though I've always loved the final 5 days leading up. So I'm here today on the 22nd of the 12th of the year 2013 re-writing a story. I wanted to do something for you all, a Christmas present for the lot of you. It might not be as good as it could be, but it should be good none the less.

Before I start though, I want to say that it won't fall under my usual practice of 'How depressing/rebellious can I make this?' that I put to most of my stories (yes, the unpublished ones and the ones that are simply ideas too) but instead a romance. It will be slightly sad, but not 'till later on.

The story will be 5, maybe 6 chapters long. That means that I'll write one a day and 2 extra.

Oh, and one last thing - the school times for holidays is taken from the English schedule. If it doesn't seem like the right dates to you then that's why, because we break up on the 21st. With that, I'll get started.

Chapter One: The 20th of December

 

            "...So... uh... Will you... go out with me?"

            I stare at the short, cute, blushing, petrified girl in front of me. I kneel down and put my hand on her shoulder. Through her green coat, her pink sweater and her white school shirt, it's still the touch of the man she loves. I cover my face with my hand. She stares at me, her eyes twinkling. I move my hand revealing my face, look up to her and stare in to her golden rimmed pupils.

            "I'm sorry. I can't." I say. The words feel like bricks in my throat, and I nearly choke forcing them out. Tears form in her eyes. Tears form in mine. She moves forward. I move back.

            A moment passes before she looks down at the ground and tells me that she understands. I know that she doesn't. It hurts. More than I thought it would, actually.

            I stand up. I turn around. I walk. Simple things like this seem to me like stabbing myself with a knife - my reflex is against it and the more times I do it the easier it gets. But it also gets more painful.

            I feel my arm come to a sudden stop. I turn around again. God, why did she make me turn around again?

            I think to myself in the slowed down time while she jumps in to me, a forced embrace: I read once that hugs literally kill depression, help your immune system, get rid of paranoia and anxiousness and feel good. You have no idea how much I wanted this.

            I step back. She falls to the floor. The landing of the school is silent with the one exception of her bag and body hitting the floor. So I crouch down and lift her up.

            "Don't worry. Somewhere out there there's a guy who's perfect for you; who'll love you more than life, and who you'll love much more than me. I'm not that person. Go find him."

            She smiles. I smile.

            So I turn. I walk. I feel like there's glass in my chest, like I'm bleeding. In a way there was a hole in me. A hole in my heart.

            Did I lie? Did I love her more than life? Did I love her more than I ever could? Did I love her as much as she loved me?

I don't know if I lied.

~~~

            "Jerome walked up to me. He told me that they would be okay, so I waited. He told me that they might seem sad, but they were happy I was still there. I didn't get that - why would they seem sad if they were happy? I didn't bother asking. If I 'd learned anything about these people in the last 6 hours it was that asking didn't do anything for you because they always gave you fake answers.

            "So I waited. The car started then. I didn't like that because they weren't there, and they should of been. I panicked then because I wanted to see them and make sure that they were okay because I didn't trust what Jerome said about them being okay. I opened the door but we were already travelling too fast for me to get out. I didn't shut it in time and it slammed when it hit the pillar. The one in the driver's seat swore and yelled at me. I didn't cry though because I didn't have enough energy to show emotion anymore. As the car sped across the motorway I watched the lamps go by at tens of miles per hour.

            "My eyelids kept shutting, but I still tried to fight off the tiredness because I wanted to get to where we were going awake so as that I could see them if they were there."

            "Wow. So that's what happened?"

            That's it. That's my story. I hate it, but I get made to tell it again and again. Every time someone else joins. Why do they make me tell it? Is it part of the course? I don't think it's helping that much if it is... "Can I leave now? I mean, I have to get back to my place soon or I won't get any sleep."

            Twenty six eyes turned to stare at me. Well, twenty five, thanks to Brian. His other eye just turned towards me given it didn't stay there that long.

            Samuel put his elbows on his legs and his head in his hands. It took him a while to think about it, but he turned to look at me soon. "Okay, you can go. Have a good night. And tell your brother I said 'Hi'."

            I winced at the joke that they all still told. I hated it really, but I had to put up with them or I'd get lectured by Grace.

~~~

            I opened the door, and made my own joke. "Ma, I'm home!" I yell up the stairs. I knew it was futile but I was told pretending helps none the less.

            I turned on the stove and in ten minutes I had a two burgers with lattice and tomatoes on a plate in front of me.

            Eat. Walk. Shower. Sleep.

            That could of been the end of my day, right there. That could of been it, but I didn't like the sound of that, and I'd told Samuel that I'd talk to him anyway. Besides which, I wanted to see Hazy again.

            So I ate, I walked, and I opened the gate. The trees here were all dead, which I always found stupid because it just upsets people more. I never got upset by it on my way to see Hazy, Ma, Pa and James - my brother - myself, but some people want some life around them when they go to visit the dead.

I've never been one for the whole Christmas celebration, though I've always loved the final 5 days leading up. So I'm here today on the 22nd of the 12th of the year 2013 re-writing a story. I wanted to do something for you all, a Christmas present for the lot of you. It might not be as good as it could be, but it should be good none the less.

Before I start though, I want to say that it won't fall under my usual practice of 'How depressing/rebellious can I make this?' that I put to most of my stories (yes, the unpublished ones and the ones that are simply ideas too) but instead a romance. It will be slightly sad, but not 'till later on.

The story will be 5, maybe 6 chapters long. That means that I'll write one a day and 2 extra.

Oh, and one last thing - the school times for holidays is taken from the English schedule. If it doesn't seem like the right dates to you then that's why, because we break up on the 21st. With that, I'll get started.

Chapter One: The 20th of December

 

            "...So... uh... Will you... go out with me?"

            I stare at the short, cute, blushing, petrified girl in front of me. I kneel down and put my hand on her shoulder. Through her green coat, her pink sweater and her white school shirt, it's still the touch of the man she loves. I cover my face with my hand. She stares at me, her eyes twinkling. I move my hand revealing my face, look up to her and stare in to her golden rimmed pupils.

            "I'm sorry. I can't." I say. The words feel like bricks in my throat, and I nearly choke forcing them out. Tears form in her eyes. Tears form in mine. She moves forward. I move back.

            A moment passes before she looks down at the ground and tells me that she understands. I know that she doesn't. It hurts. More than I thought it would, actually.

            I stand up. I turn around. I walk. Simple things like this seem to me like stabbing myself with a knife - my reflex is against it and the more times I do it the easier it gets. But it also gets more painful.

            I feel my arm come to a sudden stop. I turn around again. God, why did she make me turn around again?

            I think to myself in the slowed down time while she jumps in to me, a forced embrace: I read once that hugs literally kill depression, help your immune system, get rid of paranoia and anxiousness and feel good. You have no idea how much I wanted this.

            I step back. She falls to the floor. The landing of the school is silent with the one exception of her bag and body hitting the floor. So I crouch down and lift her up.

            "Don't worry. Somewhere out there there's a guy who's perfect for you; who'll love you more than life, and who you'll love much more than me. I'm not that person. Go find him."

            She smiles. I smile.

            So I turn. I walk. I feel like there's glass in my chest, like I'm bleeding. In a way there was a hole in me. A hole in my heart.

            Did I lie? Did I love her more than life? Did I love her more than I ever could? Did I love her as much as she loved me?

I don't know if I lied.

~~~

            "Jerome walked up to me. He told me that they would be okay, so I waited. He told me that they might seem sad, but they were happy I was still there. I didn't get that - why would they seem sad if they were happy? I didn't bother asking. If I 'd learned anything about these people in the last 6 hours it was that asking didn't do anything for you because they always gave you fake answers.

            "So I waited. The car started then. I didn't like that because they weren't there, and they should of been. I panicked then because I wanted to see them and make sure that they were okay because I didn't trust what Jerome said about them being okay. I opened the door but we were already travelling too fast for me to get out. I didn't shut it in time and it slammed when it hit the pillar. The one in the driver's seat swore and yelled at me. I didn't cry though because I didn't have enough energy to show emotion anymore. As the car sped across the motorway I watched the lamps go by at tens of miles per hour.

            "My eyelids kept shutting, but I still tried to fight off the tiredness because I wanted to get to where we were going awake so as that I could see them if they were there."

            "Wow. So that's what happened?"

            That's it. That's my story. I hate it, but I get made to tell it again and again. Every time someone else joins. Why do they make me tell it? Is it part of the course? I don't think it's helping that much if it is... "Can I leave now? I mean, I have to get back to my place soon or I won't get any sleep."

            Twenty six eyes turned to stare at me. Well, twenty five, thanks to Brian. His other eye just turned towards me given it didn't stay there that long.

            Samuel put his elbows on his legs and his head in his hands. It took him a while to think about it, but he turned to look at me soon. "Okay, you can go. Have a good night. And tell your brother I said 'Hi'."

            I winced at the joke that they all still told. I hated it really, but I had to put up with them or I'd get lectured by Grace.

~~~

            I opened the door, and made my own joke. "Ma, I'm home!" I yell up the stairs. I knew it was futile but I was told pretending helps none the less.

            I turned on the stove and in ten minutes I had a two burgers with lattice and tomatoes on a plate in front of me.

            Eat. Walk. Shower. Sleep.

            That could of been the end of my day, right there. That could of been it, but I didn't like the sound of that, and I'd told Samuel that I'd talk to him anyway. Besides which, I wanted to see Hazy again.

            So I ate, I walked, and I opened the gate. The trees here were all dead, which I always found stupid because it just upsets people more. I never got upset by it on my way to see Hazy, Ma, Pa and James - my brother - myself, but some people want some life around them when they go to visit the dead.

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...