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Lida’s dangerous love affair with meth had resulted from unaddressed childhood traumas. That year, all she wanted was to spend Christmas with her son and be an excellent mother to him, like she had always promised (whenever she tried to quit her drug addiction). Having stayed clean for six weeks, she was recovering from the withdrawal stage.
Bobby Helms was singing “Jingle Bell Rock” on the stereo—Lida’s favorite Christmas tune. She played it every year on repeat during the holiday season. Dressed in a white robe and a Santa hat, she danced around with Matthias in her arms.
Snowflakes had frosted the windows of the apartment, revealing a white Christmas outside. The young mother had put up a small Christmas tree on the coffee table, decorating it with ornaments and mini candy canes. Red and green tinsel hung from the ceiling fan, with mistletoe hanging from the doorway in Lida’s tiny kitchen.
Matthias’s laughter filled the room as his mother kissed his cheek and playfully blew into his neck. A delicious aroma wafted from the oven, enticing the little boy’s appetite. Lida had baked a homemade apple pie, her grandmother’s famous recipe.
“Have you been a good boy this year, Matty?”
“Yes, Mamma.” He smiled, wrapping his pudgy arms around his mother’s neck. At three years old, he had developed a decent vocabulary.
“Santa’s gonna bring you something special this year. Are you excited, Matthias?”
“Yah!” He let out the cutest laugh.
His cheerful giggling stopped when a loud noise made him jump in fear.
BOOM-BOOM-BOOM!
Lida froze and turned around, staring at the door. A foreboding presence crept into the apartment, shifting the frequency. She seemed to know who was waiting on the other side.
“Looks like we’ve got an uninvited guest.” She placed her son in his crib.
Tightening her robe, she headed for the entrance door. Her excessive drug use had made her underweight, but she was on the road to recovery.
BOOM! BOOM!
“Hold on!” she shouted. “I’m coming!” Grabbing some cash from her purse, she unfastened a latch and opened the door.
A tall man with a bulky frame stood across from her, dressed in a black leather coat, dark trousers, and black boots. His neck was covered in tattoos, and he had short blond hair that was buzzed off. His dark, beady eyes pierced through hers as he glared at her. The crease in his forehead made him look like he had a permanent frown on his face. His left ear was pierced with a small golden hoop.
Lida was nervous. Readjusting her robe, she stared at the intimidating man towering over her.
“Where’s my money?” he spoke with a thick Boston accent.
“It’s here.” She handed him the cash and tucked back a strand of her fallen hair.
He counted the bills and sneered at her. “You’re kiddin’ me, right?”
“I… I’ll give you the rest next week—I promise.”
“You’re twelve-hundred short! Give me my money!”
“I don’t have it! Please, it’s Christmas Eve. I promise I’ll get you the cash by next Friday.”
“That’s not how it works, bitch!” He clutched her throat and forced himself inside. “I’m gonna give you ten seconds to solve this problem. And if you can’t, then I’ll solve it myself.Ten…”
“I swear I’m telling the truth!” Lida panicked, backing away.
“Nine…”
“I don’t have your money right now!” She bumped into a table.
“Eight…”
“If you just give me until tomorrow, I can borrow the money to pay you back!”
“One.”
