We sat on the couch watching “How the Grinch Stole Christmas.” My siblings and I aren’t usually able to have a quiet night at home.
We argue a lot and never hug eachother. My sister sometimes thinks that I hate her. I don’t though. She just gets on my nerves. Something about tonight was different though. It struck me as odd and I couldn’t figure out why.
My sister sat to the left of me and my brother to the right. I was stroking my sister’s hair when my brother spoke. He had his head resting on the pillow in his lap. He looked up at me.
“Santa shouldn’t come here this Qwistmas.” He said.
“Oh, and why is that?” I asked.
“We already got enough presents under our tree. He should go to kids who don’t got no presents.”
Tears welled up in my eyes when he said that. I never knew my brother could be so sweet.
It reminded me of all the times we had to do without. When we didn’t have anything under the tree. Sometimes I want to scream out. I get so upset when I think of those who don’t have anything at Christmas. I go out of my way every year to give to charity; even those years when I don’t have anything left to give.
I did Toys for Tots and the angel tree this year, in addition to giving away my gas money to Toys for Joys. Yet, it still didn’t feel like enough. Something was missing. Something wasn’t right. I could feel it.
We (my brother, sister, and I) walked down to out local 7-11 to buy sodas. I remember walking in and seeing the Berry, the clerk.
I had my brother and sister go pick out a soda and grab a Mountain Dew for me. I talked with Berry about our finals before Christmas break. Then I heard it.
“Don’t move bitch.” I felt cold steel against my neck.
Where are my brother and sister?
“Give me the money in the register or pretty bitch here gets to put a double zero guage in her spine.” The person behind me threw Berry a brown paper sack.
Berry looked scared, terrified is more the word. I prayed to a god i just now started believing in that my brother and sister would stay hidden.
Did they know what was going on?
Berry had the sack full and set it down on the counter. The man started to reach for it when I heard someone walk up. Just the squeak of a shoe and the man turned and fired two shots.
I turned around to see my worst fear come to life. The man grabbed the bag and headed for the door. I cought his face as he turned to look at the scene of the crime.
I knew him from somewhere, but that was not important now.
I rushed to my brother and sister as Berry phoned for help. My brother and sister had both been shot in the chest.
My brother’s wound was not bleeding very badly and I could tell that he was not in any danger of dying, so I tended to my sister. I tried to comfort her, but she wouldn’t let me, she had something she had to say.
“I know you don’t hate me.” She said, coughing.
“What?” I asked. I could sense that she would not make it out of the store alive.
“I don’t… want you to think… for the rest of you life, that… I died thinking… you hated me… I did a lot… of stuff to annoy… you, and we didn’t… get along too well, but… I love you… and I know… you love… me.”
“You’re right, I love you, but you’re not going to…” I started crying. She never heard the words come out of my mouth. I never thought my ten year old sister could be that mature. I never knew she felt that way.
The police and the medics arrived a short time later. They did all they could, but my sister never revived. My brother and I were transported to the hospital.
As I watched him sleep that I night I thought of what he had said. I remembered who that man was, the one who tore my family apart.
My brother, sister, and I had helped him get his toys and food at the Toys for Tots at our local community center. The irony crushed me when realization hit. I had a name, an address, even a phone number at my fingertips, but what would it help? It wouldn’t bring my sister back.
I turned him in, and could never bring myself to celebrate Christmas again. My brother doesn’t handle things very well either. He has dealt with our loss, but takes prozac to help him live day to day. My eight year old brother has to use sedatives to fall asleep at night!!!! What kind of world is this where we have innocence, people who are willing to go the distance and help others, and we are stabbed in the back like this. I hope that man burns in hell! And may Christmas die with him!!