‘Twas the Eve of Christmas Eve

I had slept over at SC’s house on the eve of Christmas Eve. The next morning, I woke up with a start and knew I had to get home. SC had to work, so I took his little brother with me to my mom’s house. I left my car at SC’s and we actually rode on his brother’s bike, because I was sure that I’d be going back home with SC later that night anyway.

When I walked into my mom’s house, it was chaos. Which is not unlike any other day in my mother’s house, but it was a little unique in that there were new faces. Even my step-dad’s family was there. I walked straight back to my room and when I opened the door, there were four people laying in my bed. It’s also not unlikely that my bed is crowded with people, but they are usually my brothers and sisters. This time it was my druggie uncle and his “wife” and my dad’s cousin with his girlfriend. I asked them what the hell they were doing in my bed and my cousin’s girlfriend replied, “You’re mom said we could share this bed.”

I freaked out. She wasn’t even supposed to be in this state. She should be with my cousin’s family at the very least. She already stole one holiday, I was not going to let her steal another. But instead of going psycho on her ass, I just walked out of the room and shut the door.

Next, I went on a search for my mom. She was in the kitchen cooking, but as soon as she saw me she made up an excuse to leave the room. A little girl came in the kitchen asking for a drink and she had to have a character cup with the matching lid like the other kids, so I had to search for ten minutes for a matching cup/lid combo. By this time, I was ready to jump down someone’s throat.

I found my mom in her room, crying. Apparently my step-dad was drunk again. He was angry and he was embarrassing our whole family. Yes, he was THAT guy. And I was trying to tell her, yet again, that she should leave him when she stormed off. She didn’t want to hear it. As I yelled down the hallway at my mom, “You know what I’m telling you is true. You know you should,” I spot my step-dad out of the corner of my eye. He is just sitting back sipping his vodka & Pepsi¬†with a snide grin. At that point, I charge at him. I was yelling at the top of my lungs.

“Fuck you, you bastard.”

“This is all your fault. Everything.”

“You did this.”

“I fucking hate you.”

And just as I was about to pounce, SC came out of nowhere and caught me. He held me back while I continually tried to punch, kick, and otherwise annihilate this raging alcoholic who destroyed my family.

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