So, This Christmas

Ch.1) The House of Means, Greeds, the Checkers

So there we were. Dragging our bodies down those dark and street-light infested streets. Of course, I wasn’t alone, I was with my dork of a brother. Yes, just two children (one 14, one 10), walking down those streets of Brooklyn. Downtown Brooklyn. We were about to return to a house of trudging demons.

You may ask, “Where are your parents?”  Truth is, I don’t know. We’re orphans. We’re not the nicest or smartest kids, but let me tell you, we’re courageous and strategic, for we had already been through six (about to be seven) foster homes. It doesn’t matter what people think of me. Nope. Not one bit of my blood-pumping, disgusting looking heart cares. My brother, on the other hand, has doubts. When his blood boils he’s the feistiest ten-year-old ever.

We were still walking; it was about 6:30 pm, and we were coming to an intersection. Metal on wheels was bustling and thronging the intersection. After all, it was winter, and families were traveling to and from destinations to see relatives. The air was frosted and reeked like exhaust. The ground was covered in white and brown slush, which you can’t help but step in without intention.

Yet, you draw back to the question of, “where are you trying to go?”  Caleb and I were taking a nice amble from our school. No, we didn’t get out late, and we usually don’t walk. We missed the bus on the coldest night of December, unfortunately. It was as cold as icebergs covered in antifreeze. We called Mr. and Mrs. Checker to come get us, but they were too tied up in Christmas, Kaci, and Anthony. So there we were, about to cross that dirty and polluted intersection.

Finally, we made it. Not to “the house” exactly, but the street next to it. That street seemed peaceful, calm, and well-respected. So did ours, I guess, but not “the house” in particular.

There we were. We arrived at the most pathetic house in all of Brooklyn. “The Checkers’.” We continued to walk up the water-corroded, concrete stairs to find a nicely set up porch. I was skeptical to walk on those stairs because it felt like we were walking on pillow tops of moss. We stared forward to find a white metal door with an umbrella shaped window. Caleb and I continued to walk persistently. We finally hit the lit-up, yellow doorbell hesitantly. And, there they were.

“Where were you?” asked Mrs. Checker.

            “Walking,” I replied. “We’re frostbitten red.”

“You should’ve worn a heavier jacket,” replied little snot-nosed Anthony.

“Listen, you wouldn’t know the struggle,” I said. “We’ve had the same hoodies for months, and no one’s cared to buy us a jacket.” I rotated to the right to see my little brother about to snap. His face was bright red, and tears drew to his eyes.

Kaci and I differed the most, as I was into sports and outdoor activities and she was into barbie dolls and princess dresses. Kaci was much prettier than me with straight blonde hair and blue eyes. I had dark red-brown hair and green eyes. Even though green eyes are rare and special with only about 2% of the population having them, I had never felt special with the Checkers.

Caleb and Anthony were fairly similar in looks. They both had dirty blonde hair and brown eyes. Yet, Caleb didn’t whine every two seconds over the smallest of things.

“You have chores, Chloe,” said Mrs. Checker.

“Why do I do everything?” I asked. “Ask your overly petty daughter to do something!”

“You take that back!” Mrs. Checker said, glancing over at Kaci as she made herself “cry.”

“No!” I screamed loudly. “You always treat me like a piece of garbage!”

            I scurried upstairs, made an abrupt left, ran down the hallway with loud, strident floor boards into one of the smaller rooms, and slammed the door. That room just so happened to be mine. It’s not your typical 14-year-old girl room. I sleep on a futon, because you know, real beds are irrelevant to teenagers. I hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in months. I was lucky to have a pillow in that house of brats and greedy people. Even that pillow was adamantine. It was like a boulder in cloth.

I wanted a lot of things that Christmas, but I usually had gotten the hand-me-downs from the past year’s Christmas’. Or better yet, they’d usually be wrapped in Christmas paper. An utmost tease! The Checkers were as cold as the below average temperatures we had been receiving.

I hated that house, I hated that life, I hated that “family.” It was all fake, fake, and more fake. But, what was I to do?

-Kaylynn Buonpastore