So just pull the trigger.

26. The Bleeding

Chris felt anxious after Aki had left. He was struggling to move forward. The days seemed endlessly long and dreary. He knew that he had reached a new low. At times, his reflection, the man that he had become, felt like a stranger. A small part of him, a part that still hesitated to take the path that he was about to venture on, was getting wearier and wearier to fight. The reality started to blur.

Christmas was all around, there was no escape. On the streets, inside the stores, on the TV and radio; Christmas. At work, on lunch breaks, he heard others speak of their plans for Christmas and all of this made him feel even more lonesome

His loneliness almost made him miss Aki. On the other hand, certain things revolted the side of him that was slowly disappearing, the part of him that was still good.

They had drunk together, planning the ′perfect crime.′ Ryan had spent a couple of nights with them and they had done drugs and had sex. Chris didn't know where Aki had gotten the drugs, but at the time he had felt indifferent about it. Now afterward, he felt haunted and disturbed by the whole thing.

His respect for Ryan had dropped; just another sex-hungry slut. But still, he himself had been a part of it, willingly receiving what was given. Perhaps he targeted the repulse he felt for himself to Ryan. He knew that there was no return from the path he was about to take with Aki and in some ways, the idea horrified him.

It was difficult, however, to see a path that would lead to something better. He was stuck in his loneliness and depression and this predicament was brought on by Joni.

A couple of days before Christmas, Chris drove to his childhood home. He sat in his car, across the street from the house, and looked at it silently. The house could have used repainting. Snow had fallen the day before, but it was now slowly melting as the temperature had risen above zero. The sky was inconsolably gray. Droplets of water fell from the eaves.

On the kitchen window, there was an old Christmas star that Chris remembered from his childhood. There was also a red carbon Christmas elf that his brother had crafted as a child. There was a time when his elf had also been placed on the window at this time of the year. Now the lack of it gave the silent message to him; he was not welcomed.

Chris sighed, not knowing what it was that he had hoped to find by coming here. A family that cared perhaps. A mother who would tell him that he was welcomed and that he was loved even through his mistakes. But that family or that mother didn't exist, not for him. There was only a fantasy of it, the fantasy of a little boy he once had been.

Chris remembered one Christmas morning that he had woken up hoping; this Christmas would be good, even Mom seemed to think so. Together with his mother and brother they had baked in the kitchen, listened to Christmas carols, and shared a few giggles. But then his father had woken, and Christmas turned black.

Man's place is not in the kitchen! His father had raged, dishes had been mashed and left broken on the floor, mom had started to cry and his dad eased his hangover by starting to drink again. As the day progressed it had only turned worse. Santa didn't bring presents for such naughty children.

Chris remembered sitting in the corner of his room, hands on his ears trying desperately to silence the noise from the kitchen, the sound of arguing. Eventually, everything had turned into dreadful silence. The next morning his mother had a black eye and she had prepared breakfast without saying a word.

He had been able to flee to Adam's house for the next few days and some Christmases after. Adam's parents had been at least partly aware of his difficult family situation. They had tried their best to give him some sense of what Christmas should be like for a child.