Quote:
At long last, your Holiday shopping is complete! Every last person is checked off the list, and you have time to spare. Maybe you deserve something a little extra special, too? Or is there someone you suddenly remembered? Are you just imagining that you’re done? What if you actually haven’t gotten everything finished? This time of year is always so stressful—how are you handling shopping at all?
Louis’s shopping list consisted of a whole 5 people. His parents, a cousin, his on and off again lover, and himself. Now, sure, he figured that getting a gift for himself was a bit tacky per say, but, he deserved it, after all, Christmas was all about cheer and happiness and all those mushy feelings people had for each other. It wasn’t like he didn’t have feelings for himself after all. Good feelings which could be made better by buying himself a very nice gift and ignoring how he just got chocolates and coffee for his folks yet again. His parents had long given up expecting anything unique or fun from him in terms of gifts. He wasn’t exactly creative nor, did he ever really care for the holiday past getting some money or what have you. Sitting in a café Louis ran over his list fingers pressed to his temple as he debated about actually trying this year. It wasn’t any special reason but, hey, he had the extra cash, he figured he could. Besides, the gift he got himself was nice and getting something less nice was just... in poor taste almost.
Almost, he told himself, further trying to justify his actions of having not gotten his parents anything or merit or note for the last several years. It was difficult to say the least, to think of ways to show affection when he felt numb towards his parental units. A mother and father who let their son be himself, neither remarkable nor entirely focused. A dull life, a life of tedium and mediocrity, Louis had spent his days focused on the fact he was normal, average. His parents picture perfect cut outs of a fifties magazine. The business suit clad father who worked a dull and drab nine to five job at the bank. A stay at home wife and mother who worm floral dresses and bakes pies for cook offs and went to the weekly PTA meetings down at the school.
Louis felt nothing for them now as an adult. Nothing, not even contempt. It was a dull and null void of apathy that lingered in his head for his mother and father and with it, a guilt that he couldn’t simply settle for such. Normal people enjoyed such lives, normal people liked being average and normal. He- wasn’t. He killed for sport. He killed as a form of work. He fought in an urban war against humans who had gained intergalactic powers from some vague cosmic entity that would come and one day try to rule the earth.
His hand fell to his list, crumpling the paper in hand. He wanted to be a good son. A happy person. But he just wasn’t. He was Lime, a killer, a remorseless one at that. He was not good man, no decent person. And no matter what he got his mother and father nothing would change. He’d be the same. As would they.
It was all dull and useless in the end, as the holiday always was.
