Happy Holidays

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A tale of sadness and truth during the most joyous time of the year.

Harry finds himself in a situation he never thought he would due to dark roots deep within. He finds his way out but is sadly dragged back by his lover, Carola.

Submitted: December 24, 2014

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Submitted: December 24, 2014




It was fifteen minutes till Christmas and Harry didn’t have an iota of happiness in even one of his two hundred and six bones. He had invited his girlfriend, Carola, over for some wining and dining, but she could not make it she had prior plans with family. She invited Harry to join, but he feared parents and the warm, spiced and sweetened wine her folks made. She resented Harry for almost always turning down opportunities to bond with her parents. She was angry as he spoke. He regretted the let down the moment the words left his mouth and at the same time not enough to be more willing. She hung up without saying good bye. Moments before she put the phone down on him, he had pleaded that she might make the train ride after dinner to his apartment to spend the night. She too regretted her actions but too in the moment neither had the energy enough to pick up the phone and convers once more to set things straight.

The fire fiercely crackled and catapulted an amber on the rug. Harry watched as it slowly faded leaving behind a charred blackness that would become a gaping hole, he didn’t care, it was too late. As he took a long pull from the four year old merlot he had been saving for tonight, which he had imagined would be spent with his love, he thought of a friend. “It is said that suicide rates fly through the roof during this time of year.” his friend had once told him. “Thirteen have already died this season! That’s only the jumpers and it’s still a week before Christmas”. Harry thought he’d never understand it and yet there he was. He never thought he would circum to the pressures of these joyous times but there he sat on the edge of his sofa holding his glock, staring down the barrel while the Christmas lights that Carola had used to decorated his windowsill flickered and gleamed cheerfully. He was repelled by the thought of becoming just another horrible Christmas suicide statistic from another happy holiday. 

For many years Harry’s current depressive bleakness had laid dormant, deeply buried within. It stemmed from years of bad parenthood, a mother as coo-coo as the amount of tree nuts that get cracked open by nut crackers for a festive season. He wasn’t angry at Carola, nor his mother for the nut-job she was. He’d simply put... snapped! This tiny fight they had ignited a wild fire of sadness in him. He felt there was an ocean of joy being felt by everyone but him and there was only one way to escape it all. Temporarily tainted logic tarnished Harry’s soul to allow unspeakable things to be done to the body. He thought of how he should try being more social, less fearful and more forgiving of parents, friends… well all people in general. Teary eyed, with terrible shakes and shattered nerves the sea of darkness started to warm from forgivness and acceptance of self. A Tear washed down his cheek as dribble drooled silver, the piece still in his mouth, he had came to.  

With a bang as loud as a billion Christmas crackers being tugged simultaneously for the spoils of useless chines made toys… His brain exploded! The white ceiling splattered red! it portrayed the canvas of the last Jackson Pollock painted for his mistress before that fatal car accident. Harry’s final thought of his love vaperized as quickly as it had sprung to mind. An accidental bullet, sparked by a jingling sound that had startled him, Carola’s unexpected spare set of keys at his front door trying to unlock and open to make amends. This was the last Christmas present Harry would ever receive, the knowing that no matter how unsociably fit, stuborn or uncompromising he had been she would have loved him unconditionably.


© Copyright 2019 Bradley Cooper. All rights reserved.

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