The Wrath Of The Ice King

1

Nobody had called me Christopher since my seventh birthday party. That name had left along with my father.

After that, life hadn't been kind to me. I never knew if it was on purpose that I had this little thundercloud following me wherever I went, raining on me and sometimes even throwing lightning bolts at me to really get on my nerves. But even if my life was a tangled yarn filled with unlucky events, I tried my best to spread joy to those who could be like me. Perhaps it had something to do with dad leaving. When he left, he took my sunshine away with him. 

I strove to clear up those clouds in other people's lives, even if I could only for a minute. Being kind cost me nothing but gave me everything, it was worth everything. It was worth seeing the smiles on people's faces when I did a small act of kindness, no matter the size or meaning of their smile.

My one goal in life was to provide happiness for those around me, for those who deserve kindness and joy in their lives because clearly, they don't feel those ethereal emotions as much as they should, judging on their behavior and demeanor.

I kept a smile glued to my face, but if it were up to me, I would never crack a laugh with the life I led. Though I tried not to pity myself, knowing that others had it worse, I couldn't help but feel lonely when working, maybe even more than I did at home.  

I worked at one of Valentino Amore's restaurants. It was a French restaurant by the names of Le Club Saphir Bleu, and it was one of the most beautiful places I had been to. It was exotic and filled with beautiful decorations, had trusted, proper staff that took good care of the area. I was proud to be a part of its family, even if I didn't get treated like one.

Behind the STAFF ONLY doors, I was pushed around for being the garbage boy, the pushover and punching back of this classy club. Every restaurant needs a garbage boy, so why was I treated with disrespect and clownery? I never knew the answer to this particular question. 

My worth as a human being shouldn't have been any less than theirs, but of course, I never voiced my opinions. My co-workers didn't know that I lived in as much garbage at home as I did at 'Saphir.' Because of this, they made it very clear that I didn't belong with them, at a high society place such as that restaurant. I was blessed to be hired, and we all knew that. The only reason I even worked there was because of my mother, who knew my boss, Hector Kennedy, and also went to college with him.

That was the only reason why I was hired, and also the reason why I was fortunate enough to become the garbage boy delightfully. I hated my job and my co-workers, but I needed money urgently. I needed enough money to buy myself a house which I didn't own. Because of that reason, I was forced to live on the streets. I didn't even have to become the garbage boy. I knew I had somewhat talent in baking. I could bake, frost, decorate, build, whatever you name. But nobody would let me do that without a degree.

I had to drop out of college when my mom became sick. She was diagnosed with lung cancer. But because of our lack of money, she couldn't be supported with any professional help. The government didn't help. As soon as I heard this, I dropped out and gave it my all to at least make her as comfortable as I could before her inevitable death.

She died soon without medical treatment, and I couldn't do anything but pray to God that she was comfortable and content with her life. I couldn't even say goodbye properly. She had died when I fell asleep, holding her wrinkly, cold hand. The thought still makes me shiver to this day.

...

I woke up with a terrible ache in my back and a horrendous image in my mind. The nightmare never seemed to go away permanently. The street I lived in was very uncomfortable to sleep. Slowly waking up and taking my brace off, I rose to my feet steadily. I was still fatigued and sleepy but quickly smiled when an older man walked by, shooting me glances that indicated how revolted he felt looking at a scumbag like myself.