Bah Humbug (manxman) A Christmas Romance *NaNoWrimo 2014 Winner*

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

(male model Ed Marquezini as my idea of what Timothy looks like---------->)

 

After splashing water on my face, I picked up my toothbrush and squeezed the Colgate gel onto the bristles of the brush and quickly brushed my teeth. I was running kind of late this morning. I didn’t have any classes today and I wanted to get my Christmas collection pot started for the orphanage as soon as possible. I still had to catch the bus across town and get a good spot in front of Macy’s well enough away from the Salvation Army collectors in order not to ruffle any feathers with my own fund gathering attempts. I should have started working the sidewalks on Black Friday in order to catch all those people willing to spend money on all the sales, and hoping their generosity spilled over to the less fortunate by dropping their loose change in my bucket. But I had to finish my mock up advertisement for my graphic design course for my grade before the semester broke for winter break.

I snatched the towel off the bar and dried the moisture from my skin and looked at my reflection in the mirror above the sink. I ran my hand over my jaw, I rarely needed to shave since any hair I grew on my face was fine and blonde anyway. I brushed my long blonde hair out of my face and tied it back into a ponytail and looked at my eyes. They were crystalline green, so pale they seemed almost translucent. People said that they were my most amazing feature, and since my eyes tended to take up a majority of my face, I hues they were right. I stood at only five feet eight inches tall and I was extremely slender, due to lack of food more than anything else, so I knew it wasn’t my physique that struck people on first glance in my direction.

 I had no clue if I got my features from my father or my mother since I was left barely a day old when I was left on the orphanage steps. The same place that I tried to collect money for  and the other abandoned kids every year since I turned eighteen, and I was literally pushed out of the system with a two hundred and fifty dollar check and a voucher section eight housing that helped me pay for my dingy little efficiency apartment.

Now, twenty years old and working part time as a dishwasher at Milano’s Bistro downtown along with my student loans, I was able to pursue my education and degree in computer graphic design. Hopefully once I obtained my degree things will look up for me. But I was thankful that I had a roof over my head, a few cans of Campbell’s chicken noodle soup in the pantry, along with a loaf of bread and water in the fridge. I was more than grateful for that, it could be way worse.

I ruffled my hair and trotted over to my meager closet and pulled out my heavy jeans, underwear, socks, and my second hand sweatshirt. I was glad for Mrs. Russell at the orphanage; she still helped me get clothes from the local thrift store. She knew the days where she could go and select the better options from the stuff people wanted to get rid of. Most times since I was so small, the clothes tended to be too big for me, but that was another thing I refused to complain about. They kept me warm; especially when the heating in my apartment decided to act up or just plain didn’t not to work at all. It can get pretty cold in there during the winter months, and the tiny space was positively sweltering in the summer.

Spinning around, I checked to make sure that I had everything that I needed, house key, wallet, and my pay as you go cell phone. I grabbed my little collection bucket with its lid and rushed out the front door, remembering to lock it before stumbling down the three flights of stairs. I stopped and shrugged myself into the too large fleece jacket I got last week. I pulled on my wool gloves and tucked my collection bucket under my arm before I plunged outside onto the busy sidewalk with the pedestrians moving at a fast pace to get where they were going and out of the frigid winds as soon as possible.