We have another writing entry done by Silver Xynto! This wonderful work is titled Christmas Spirit!
In every apartment complex, there is always the one neighbor that everyone considers the weird one, whether for personal taste, personality, or the like. Always the one guy left out from party invitations or the last person anyone would want to be stuck in an elevator with. He was my roommate.
There were consequences for that. Primarily, after an incident involving peanut butter, a toaster, and the smoke alarm, I moved up to the second-floor loft of our apartment. It was dull and cramped, and squeezing a bed into it had been a nightmare. Most of my possessions had to be scattered over the rest of the apartment. However, at least a little sunlight would cast warmth over the white ceiling, and I could watch it glow faintly for a few minutes. Until my roommate decided to test the fire extinguisher or pour vinegar over his cereal to see what it would taste like.
But, I was strapped for cash, and needed to share my rent with somebody. I dealt with each day’s excitements as best as I could, and kept on smiling through it all. That was challenging, and I was told by a doctor once that I had developed a facial twitch, but I tried my best to keep calm. It did help bolster my own sense of optimism and keep me from going crazy. I’m digressing, though.
It was a couple of weeks before Christmas. I had spent the last night making plans to visit my family for a during my college’s winter break, and trying to find somebody I could hire to keep an eye on my roommate. There had been no such luck, as everyone I knew also knew him well enough, and I had fallen asleep around midnight. When I woke up, watching the sunrise throw golden light around me, there was the unmistakable odor of pine. It took a few seconds of wrapping myself in warm blankets and wistfully allowing my senses and mind to awaken gradually and peacefully, before I realized it.
My eyes shot open, and I threw my blankets aside, walking across the loft in my boxers. I would’ve ran if the loft wasn’t so small. Regardless, I peeked over the wooden railing overlooking the apartment below. There, by the television and on the living room carpet, was a tall Christmas tree lying on its side, spilling pine needles all over the gray couch and floor. It was massive, and I was at first impressed to see that anybody had been able to get it into the apartment. Then there was the unhinged door beside it, the screws lying contentedly in a pile to the side.
“Where did you get that Christmas tree?” I called out in surprise and frustration as I opened the safety door and made my way down the steep flight of stairs. In my haste, I slipped and fell down the last few steps onto the ground, hitting it head-first.
“Uhh…I know a guy?” replied the oddly distant voice of my roommate after a few seconds. I sat up, rubbed my head, and looked out into the drab apartment hallway. I had hoped it would be too early in the morning for anybody to be walking past, and I seemed to be correct. On the other hand, all the ruckus had probably woken up the neighbors, and they were likely going to be heading this way shortly – confused, annoyed, and probably wary. Especially because I’d fallen down the stairs. Great.
I walked around the apartment, looking behind the TV, the couch, and inspecting his bedroom, which was surprisingly clean and partly empty. A quick look in the closet indicated that he’d stuffed most of his possessions in there, probably so he could place the Christmas tree in front of his bed. “What kind of guy?” I asked as I stepped over the Christmas tree to inspect a wardrobe in the corner of the room.
“It’s not that important,” the roommate said in a worried and hurried tone, still hidden from my view. “He lives nearby and we knew each other in high school…”
When I reached the kitchen, I gasped and pointed. “Why is there a hatchet in the kitchen sink?”
There was silence for a few seconds while I inspected the pine-smelling axe. Water had been pouring over it for quite some time, and water had sprayed over part of the kitchen and the floor. “Well, how else am I going to chop down a Christmas tree?” said my roommate, flustered by my remark.
I sighed and inspected the rest of the kitchen. It seemed fine; there weren’t any marks on the cabinets, and the tile countertops were okay, as were the oven and microwave. Except for the water damage, the place was marginally unharmed. In other words, he’d apparently learned from the last few of his incidents, but had chosen to make entirely new ones. Finally, my eyes fell upon the empty glass jar sitting beside the sink. I stormed out of the kitchen and towards the balcony, or the only place I hadn’t looked yet.
“You ate all the cookies?” I asked as I walked through the open doorframe and stood in the middle of the small wooden balcony. It was freezing outside, and I was regretting only wearing boxers, but I realized that there was a set of fingers desperately holding on to the edge of the railing.
The roommate grumbled, “I was hungry.” I bent over from the balcony’s edge and looked down to see his panicked face as he continued to hold on. A ladder was lying on the ground at the bottom of the apartment’s parking lot a story below, having apparently fallen onto one of the cars. Amazingly, the vehicle hadn’t started blaring its horn, although the ladder had struck the roof and was now getting dangerously close to a window. There was also a string of Christmas lights scattered around the lot.
When my roommate saw me, his face brightened, and his voice was a relieved one. “Oh, thank goodness you’re here! I wasn’t sure if I could hold on much longer. Can you pull me up, please?”
For the first time that day, I hesitated. He noticed it, as his expression turned a little more desperate and pleading. Thus far, he’d managed to chop down a Christmas tree from what was likely private property, damaged a car, knocked our front door down, caught the attention of our neighbors, left an axe in the sink, and ate the cookies. It would take forever to clean up the mess, explain the situation to the neighbors and cops, and then there was the hope that we’d still be able to live in their apartment. On the other hand, Christmas was a couple of weeks away, and was leaving him to his own devices any way to celebrate? Besides, it would make the situation that much worse. I still wanted to go see family, anyhow.
“For the Christmas spirit,” I responded with a slight grin as I grabbed him by the arms and helped to pull him up.
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