One-Shots

Last Christmas

Hello there!!! It really has been a while, hasn't it? Sorry about that. Anyway, here's a little something for the Holiday season!

This is totally non-seuxal, by the way, earning it the rating of PG. :)

Please enjoy. :)

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 The isolated cold and the dark alleyways were all he knew now. He had forgotten the feeling of trust and warmth long ago. The soft pitter-patter of the bone-chilling rain didn't faze him like they used to. Perhaps it was because he lost himself. No, he wasn't actually lost, in fact, he knew very well where he was headed. But it was that part of him was missing; gone from his body as if it had never existed.

He brushed his long, unkempt hair from his eyes and glanced up at the sky whose color could only be described as a dark charcoal or a cloudy gray. Perhaps the sky was mocking him for allowing this to happen. It was all because of last Christmas and the unthinkable deed he allowed to be committed.

Perhaps the fact that he had allowed it to even occur in the first place is probably the biggest atrocity out of the whole ordeal; not the after-effects of pain and regret that haunted him like the looming ghosts of his past they were.

He ended up passing his own apartment and allowed a small, wry expression to slide onto his face. Damn, he's still got me hung up like this. I thought I swore to myself.... His train of thought seemed to sprout from there. Like each memory of the one he wanted to forget was a growing weed that flourished with every second passed. Everything he was against and had tried to shut out of his conscience for the last entire year.

All because of Christmas: the holiday supposedly filled with joy, bliss, and peace.

And now this time had come around again, full circle, back to him. It wasn't like he'd wanted to acknowledge it, but how could he not when it changed his life forever?

He managed to make out his apartment number through the night because of the dim light hanging next to his front door. He made his way up the stairs, counting each step as he always did. He continued to count until he got the the last step and muttered, “Four.” Four steps of torture that haunted him still. Four acts of pure fear and disgust.

One: the way he made him feel. Somehow, he had ended up controlling his mind. It was as if he was a mere puppet being controlled by the strings of malicious intent. Not to mention that he made him feel worthless and unacceptable for anyone. He had seemed innocuous at first; after all, how could he refuse that smile and that voice that now sounded like an ominous warning to destruction?

Two: he was a deceiving liar. Sure, he had those sexy blue eyes and that sexy body and he was great in bed, but everything he had uttered since they met was a lie. He did not love him. He never did, and he could never love him. And that was one of the things he hated the most: being told a blatant lie. He'd rather be told the truth, no matter how much it hurt, in comparison to being lead on a glimmer of hope that never really existed.

Three: he never opened up. He was like a book sealed with a steel lock with no key. Impossible to break, and as icy as the Wicked Witch's heart. And what did that even mean, the fact that he didn't trust him with anything besides his name and number. And yet he was willing to give so much more in comparison: his name, number, family, favorite foods, tics, and family background. At least he was willing to give more than him.

Four: his betrayal. Et tu, Brute? His favorite line from Shakespeare's Julius Caesar. He had been betrayed before, and it had stung and hurt like hell. So after that, he sealed his heart away and kept it hidden until he came by. He was ably to thaw his icy demeanor and get break the seal on his determination and heart to never trust another again. He didn't want to believe his friends when they said he was cheating, but it eventually sowed itself to him when he was shopping for groceries: he was with another guy, making out with him against the aisle's wall. It was awful; he couldn't think straight or anything. He just felt like his sanity and the world around him was crumbling. When he eventually pulled himself enough to get back home, he let himself fall against his bed as he sobbed uncontrollably. He gave this guy everything he possibly could: his love, his devotion, his time, his thoughts, even his virginity. It turned out to mean nothing in the end. They were just a bunch of mundane things to him, apparently. Was this really how it had to happen? With such a betrayal?

And that was the worst part: he let himself fall to far to be saved. His emotions had taken control, and he just couldn't reign them in enough to regain his footing on reality.

The worst deed he had committed was trusting someone too much too fast.

Ever since then he hasn't let himself get close to anyone. He stopped hanging out with his friends; what if they betrayed him too? He even eventually put a stop to any communication with his family. He thought he could trust them, but he wasn't so sure anymore....

He just wasn't sure about anything anymore.

So on this Christmas day, he sat there and looked at the blank television screen. He didn't have enough motivation to turn it on. All he'd end up seeing were a bunch of people who were happy and oblivious to the pain he felt. The isolation he knew. The betrayal he felt so deep in his heart.

The feeling of last Christmas.

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I apologize for taking such a grim view of the holidays, but I felt it was necessary for this character's mindset. I do hope you enjoyed it, regardless of its morose perspective. :)

~hopelessnerd99