Sometimes the title inspires the story.
I was thinking about doing a short Christmas Story and would like some feedback. This is a rough draft of what I started. Where would you take this next?
"Hey squirt, did you know you are adopted?"
"No, I am not," I replied.
"No, you aren't. We haven't found a family to take you yet. We'll keep trying. Maybe when I come back home Mom and Dad will find a nice home for you and my Christmas Present will be that you are gone."
Those were the exact words my older sister Taylor told me before she left for the University of West Arkansas a few months ago. I remember because she told that joke in front of my parents, my two other sisters Ashley and Tiffany, and my younger brother Thomas. They all had a good laugh.
It was my sister's classic trademark sarcastic humor on display. She's been making fun of me since we were toddlers in diapers. I am the second oldest and she has always picked on me way more than she ever did Ashley, Tiffany and Thomas.
My sister looks like an all-American girl – the classic blonde cheerleader. She has used her charm and good looks as a way to not only get away with mocking us, but also having us all do the chores while she "supervises".
When she left for school, the dynamic around the house changed. As the second oldest, I was the one who made sure my siblings took care of their chores, got ready for school on time and did their homework. They did it without drama and guess what – I didn't insult anyone or humiliate them.
There was 150% less drama even with Ashley and Tiffany in the house. They are both teenagers now and going through puberty. Ashley is a fun, vibrant sophomore. She is easy to get along with but when my sister is around she becomes her "little helper".
You know how there is always a little yapping dog behind a big bully dog? That would be Ashley.
Tiffany and Thomas are twins. They couldn't be more different. They are both Freshman. Tiffany acts like a stuck-up prude. Thomas is naïve and an introvert – a lot like me.
I can't say that I had any complaints for the next few months. I was doing okay in school. I didn't have a girlfriend, but I had a few girls that I doted on and dreamed of talking to about going on a date. I never got a car of my own. Dad bought a new car for Taylor when she graduated high school and I didn't expect him to be able to afford one for me. He told me I needed to be resilient and go out and earn it for himself.
The problem was that his generation says things "I worked part time for a summer and bought myself a corvette."
My generation says things like "I worked part time for the summer but I couldn't afford the Uber ride to and from work."
Anyway, let me skip all that and bring you back to a few weeks before Christmas. My sister had returned to town and my parents picked her up at the bus stop. She seemed more mature, and her body had developed even more. I thought it was just that I hadn't seen her in a while but she looked like a full grown adult woman. She carried herself that way too.
When she got home she installed herself as a visiting house guest and an adult. She was no longer the older sister that teased us and got away with it. She was now the adult that could openly mock us and act like she was on the same level as my parents – as equals.
I don't think that sat well with Dad. My mom and Dad aren't exactly "Super strict" but my Dad is a no bullshit kind of guy. My mom can be quiet and introverted but there are times when she can be REALLY strict and hand down a heavy punishment. Most of the time they put us on restriction but when we were younger they made us stand in the corner and even spanked us.
I can't say that I remember any one particular thing that set things in motion. There were lots of little things that happened. Snippy comments, selfish observations, and bratty attitudes that seemed to make Taylor less charming.
She used to be able to say downright mean things to my face and the entire family would laugh. That was because she was one of us kids. Now, she was saying those mean things to me and my siblings (mostly me) and it came off as pompous and rude.
The funny thing is that Ashley immediately came to her sister's defense and began to act like her faithful lieutenant. The two of them spent a lot of time shopping and goofing around. There was a good reason to go shopping – it was Christmas after all.
My family has a tradition that we've done as long as I can remember. We set aside one night to dress the tree. Mom makes popcorn to thread the tree and we hang ornaments and tell stories about Christmas of the past. We drink hot cocoa and laugh a lot. It is really important to my mother and she reminded Taylor and Ashley that it was happening at least a dozen times.
They didn't show up.
Mom texted them. She assumed the worst – "maybe something happened to them!"
Dad had an app on his phone that let him see where Ashley's phone was. They were not at the mall. They were at a party. I guess Dad drove there after they didn't pick up the phone and both of the girls smelled of vodka, cigarettes and were dressed like tramps.
Their butts had to be extra-frosty because it was cold that night and they had to wear short skirts and boots that revealed their bare legs. Taylor acted like it was no big deal but the two of them looked like they were frozen to the core.
My sisters have always had nice bodies but none of them were ever trashy. They looked like total sluts in tank-tops with tight skirts. It was snowing outside and they were obviously under-dressed. Dad made them come home without putting on a coat and everything.
Instead of apologizing, they grew bitter. Taylor exerted herself as an adult and that she had every right to do as she pleased.
"You have that right but there are consequences," my father reminded her. He said she was setting a bad example for Ashley as well and that they hurt their mother.
"Oh whatever, we aren't twelve anymore. We don't need to set up Justin's (that's me) train set under the tree for him. Chill out,"
I couldn't believe my sisters would talk back to him that way to our parents. I didn't know if it was that they were drunk or not, but it didn't go well. My parents sent me to bed to hash this out. I was positive that Tiffany and Thomas were listening through the walls just like I was – but eventually the yelling and stomping of feet ended.
The next morning, I learned that my father had imposed new rules.
"Since you girls like dressing up for parties so much, and think you know it all I thought I would introduce some new clothing restrictions."
Ashley was hung over and looked miserable. Taylor looked angry and her perfect straight blonde hair was unkempt. It looked like she had slept in her make-up and her face looked twisted into an angry but stubborn glare.
The rest of the family filed in to hear the conversation over breakfast. My mom was quiet but supportive as my father laid out the rules.
"Since you like short skirts so much, they are to be worn no higher than six inches from the knee but no lower than that either. You will wear a blouse of your mother's choosing and appropriate undergarments for girls your age. You will wear no shoes in this house and when you leave you may be permitted to wear flat shoes."
"But Daddy it's cold," Ashley pleaded.
"You didn't seem to mind last night. The Vodka must have warmed you up,"
"It's fine, Ash" Taylor rolled her eyes as if to suggest Dad should hurry up and finish his new rules so she could enjoy her coffee.
