Karate Kiss

Chapter 11 - No one ordered any pizza

I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round, as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable time; the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys. ~ Charles Dickens

When I was a child, Christmas Eve offered a magical air of wonder and excitement. It was day where my childish-enthusiasm blossomed in my heart whilst the brightly wrapped presents under the tree tauntingly-teased with their mystery. I would rest uneasily at bedtime knowing tomorrow I could feast upon all the mountains of exotic and luxurious delicacies that would normally be too expensive, or naughty. I would try my utmost to stay awake to take a glimpse of Santa's frostbitten red coat, yet my eyes would always be overcome by tiredness.

I still do. After all, we are kids at heart. Except the Santa part, I'm over that myth.

After doing my daily morning routine, as I run downstairs, I was expecting to see the rest downstairs and making breakfast, you know all in the Christmas spirit. Then again, sometimes expectations cannot be reached if they're that high.

It was empty as I reached downstairs. Great. I walk to the kitchen but don't see much made or anything in the fridge. As I was about to walk to the TV I see a note on the counter. Finally, some form of communication.

Hey buddy, we are all at work so we left you alone. I left some money on the dining table so you can do some 'Christmas' shopping yayyy.

...

Anyway you know what to buy and I left around $120 for it, don't disappoint me and buy junk we don't need. Hey you could even take Damian with you. Love ya, Dad.

Really? Bring him with me? I walked off to the TV and started watching The Simpsons.

The doorbell rung after 2 hours of me watching re-runs of Simpsons non-stop. I frown and look through the peephole and see the Douche himself. Fuck, what's he doing here?!

I shout through the door instead of opening it. "What do you want?!"

"Hi are you not going to open the door?"

"I've always learnt not to let strangers in the house."

"Ha ha very funny(!) Now open up"

"Like I said, no. And what the hell you doing here."

"I was sent here by a guardian angel." I roll my eyes.

"Let me guess - my dad?"

"You have wise knowledge, mi pequeño buñuelo" he winks, knowing full well I'm still looking through the peephole.

"Well mi ducha molesto you can go now. I command you."

"No it was an order, now let me in please. It's cold out here."

I mumble "Wuss..."

"I heard that now don't make me call him right now in front of you, or make you embarrassed out on the streets and say things you don't want me to." The evil tone laced in his voice made me let out a frustrated sigh and open the door.

"Hi. Wow, vest tops and shorts suit you" he winks as he takes off his shoes and walks to the couch.

I close the door "So does seeing your face covered in bruises and you limping to the hospital if you don't shut up" I smiled, and then sit on the couch but in the corner. So there is this big ass fat space between us.