Important: This is the 2nd last fic of 2021! I will be taking the last half of December and first half of January off from posting.
I will be back Jan. 14th (2022) with the first fic of the new year! (It is the long-awaited 7th installment of the Unlearning Series)
NFF, 2021’s 1st Christmas fic
“Would you like another beer, Sir?”
The bearded man turns his head to see the statuesque eighteen-year-old waitress standing next to the pool. He lets out a too-loud, drunken laugh and reaches up to pass her his empty, “Whatever it takes to keep you coming back, Toots!”
The waitress suppresses her shudder and takes the bottle, scurrying away into the small hut of a bar at the other end of the pool. She usually had no qualms with working in Hawaii – she knew how lucky she was to get to work in one of the most beautiful places on the planet – it was just every once in a while asshole drunks like this guy made her seriously question her choices. At least he’s running up quite a tab, she snickers as she punches in yet another beer for the creep.
“Hey,” Shannon comes up behind her, placing her tray of empty glasses down, “Who’s that drunk guy you’ve been serving?”
“How should I know?” Upon noticing the worry on her co-worker’s face she continues, “He’s probably just a drifter, why?”
Shannon swallows thickly and pulls her by the wrist to the edge of the pool, “I think he’s dead.”
There, floating face down in the pool is the bearded man, chest not rising or falling. Oh my God! Tracy blows her whistle, gaining the attention of the closest life-guard. Upon noticing the body, the lifeguard jumps into the pool, pulling the man out. They try CPR for a few breathless minutes but alas, the man has died.
Shannon shakes her head, hand moving to cover her mouth as the lifeguard’s hands fall away from the man’s chest, “W-what was his name?”
Tracy races back to the hut, grabbing the sign-in book, flipping through it, heart leaping into her throat as she finds the right page. She lowers the book, look of absolute horror on her face.
Shannon notices the look and reaches for the book, “What? What is it?”
“I…” Tracy swallows thickly, “I killed Santa Claus.”
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