Black Diaries

19. Family Time

I know you're supposed to be charitable around Christmas. You're supposed to volunteer to do fundraising, and cook a meal for the homeless. You're supposed to give blood for the Red Cross, and adopt a pet from the animal shelter. You're even supposed to babysit your neighbor's pesky little brats for free. I know you're supposed to do all those things, because I got them off the internet, from a list called Top Ten Charitable Things to do Around Christmas.

But, I reflected, as I sat in Chuck's car, being driven through slush-spattered streets towards his parents' house, that they forgot to put one important thing on that list. The thing I really felt like doing right now. The number 1 charitable thing to do around Christmas: strangling Chuck's mother. Preferably before she could dispatch Christmas invitations.

Oh well, it was already too late now. No sense crying over spilled milk.

"Will you look at that?" Chuck exclaimed, pointing out of the window. "It started snowing! With any luck, we'll have a white Christmas, not one covered in brown-gray slush. Wouldn't that be great?"

"Yes," I groaned, looking longingly out of the car window at the lucky people out there. People who were free, and weren't being dragged to be devoured by a horde of familial Christmas monsters. "Absolutely amazing."

Leaning over, Chuck pressed a kiss on the crown of my head. "I'm so happy you're excited about this, too."

I lifted my eyes towards heaven. Men really are the most extraordinarily talented emotional analphabets!

Not long after, we halted in front of a large, rather chaotic parking lot.

"What are we stopping for?" I asked. Not that I was complaining. I was grateful beyond words for any delay.

"Why, we're here, of course." Chuck nodded towards the parking lot. Only then did I notice the chimney peeking out between a camper van and a Honda. A chill flooded through me. This wasn't a parking lot. This was it. All the horses of the riders of the apocalypse, gathered around hell. Or in other words: Chuck's parents' place.

"Shall we?" Chuck was already out and at my door, holding it open for me.

Well... I guess it was time to face the devil. Slipping into my jacket, I climbed out of the car, shivering in the cold winter air.

I threw Chuck a questioning glance. "Do you think they've noticed we've arrived ye—"

"There she is! That's got to be her! There!"

Even through the windows, the cry was hardly muffled. A moment later, there came the noise of the door crashing open, followed by something that sounded suspiciously like an avalanche surging through the labyrinth of cars towards me.

Chuck chuckled. "Prepare yourself."

"Don't worry," I told him. "I'm armed."

He laughed, and slid his arm around my shoulders. "You've got an amazing sense of humor, Cassy!"

"Thank you." Underneath my jacket, I sneaked my hand to the knife at my belt.

The roaring of the human avalanche was getting louder, and a moment later, it burst from between the cars: a horde of about half a dozen girls, all aged from their mid-teens to their mid-twenties, all dressed in the same wild collection of mile-long scarfs, woolen jackets and knit hats.

"There!" One of them squealed, pointing at me as if I were Santa himself, flying across the sky in his sleigh for the entertainment of the onlookers. "That's her!" She stormed towards me.

One of the others elbowed her out of the way. "I saw her first!" And she pounced on me, before I could even think of drawing my knife.

"Finally! I've been so dying to meet you! We've been all dying to meet you, but I've been dying more than all the others! I'm practically ten times dead and buried already! Cathy, right? No, that wasn't it! Cary? Catnip?"