Crisp breezes tease the back of my neck as I make my way through the bustling main street, dodging people left and right as they talk, laugh, shop, and give into the general revelry filling the air. A tendril of happiness coils its way through my core, making my fingers tingle for a moment before I flex them to get the nerves out. My holiday bonus was set to hit yesterday, which means I can finally get a few of the Christmas presents on my brother’s list.
Despite the cheer literally ringing out on every street corner, a slight hum of sadness simmers under the surface. It’s been a few years now since our parents passed away, so the pain isn’t as sharp, but every major holiday is now tinged with the knowledge that they’re not here. It’s an emptiness that will never be filled, even with the merriment I’ve tried forcing into our little apartment.
He feels it.
I feel it.
There’s no denying the yawning emptiness, especially now that we’re no longer in the family home and are in the only apartment I can afford. There’s no forgetting the Christmases we had in the past as a full family. Granted, Daniel was younger then, so I’m sure the memories are far more hazy. If only I had that blessing.
Shaking my head, I force myself from those thoughts. I should have never even let such an idea pass through. I’d much rather feel the pain than to forget they ever existed.
Enough of this grief. Christmas was my mother’s favorite holiday. She wouldn’t want us to be sad. Not when there’s so much celebration and happiness to draw from. A new thought forms in my brain as I step in line at the ATM. Even though Daniel is far too old for Santa, I wonder if he should still make a visit. Wouldn’t that be hilarious?
How much do they cost, though? That, honestly, is the more important question. It would probably be way cheaper to rent a costume myself and take on the embarrassment as opposed to the financial burden. Still, though, the very idea of showing up looking that ridiculous causes a smile to tug at the edges of my lips as I slide my card into the slot and press my PIN.
My fingers tremble a touch as the air shifts, bringing the magical scent of cinnamon, cocoa, and, well, Christmas, drifting under my nose. This is going to be a good holiday. I can feel it.
-486.23
My heart plummets just as fast as it soared, leaving me a touch dizzy and lightheaded. Gripping the sides of the ATM, I stare at the number in bold black, squinting every now and then as if that will somehow change it. Behind me, I’m vaguely aware of the line starting to form, but I can’t move, I can’t speak, and I can barely even breathe.
This can’t be right. No. I should have far more in there than that. I haven’t been spending. I haven’t been doing anything but paying the bills. How could this have happened?
Taking the debit card out, I glare at the flimsy plastic, shake it and blow on it like an old gaming cartridge, and slide it back in. My body quakes as I punch in my PIN and ignore the sighs and throat clearings. They will just have to wait.
It has to be wrong. This honestly can’t be right. I got paid only a few days ago, and the bonus would have hit… How in the world can I be overdrawn? More to the point, how in the hell can I be overdrawn by that massive of an amount? Closing my eyes, I mouth a prayer up to anyone who might hear, but it’s no use. Once I open my eyes again, the balance glares up at me in that dark, judging font.
-486.23
My stomach clenches as nausea rises in my throat. Was I hacked somehow? It’s honestly the only thing that makes sense. My soul threatens to leave my body as I pull my card back out of the machine and head inside. Someone should be able to fix this. It’s not my fault that a horrible thief stole all my money.
As I wait in line, my heart pounds in my chest. All around, the space should look rather cozy with every window and free space festooned for the holidays. Only, to me, it feels far more claustrophobic, as if the walls are closing in until I can’t breathe.
The others don’t seem to have the same anxiety I do. They turn about, laughing and joking with the next person in line as they wait. All of them have big plans for the holidays—family they hope to see, presents they plan to buy, and menus that make my annual hot cocoa and popcorn balls look like a pauper’s last meal.
The cool, crisp wind outside no longer sends shivers down my spine. Now, it’s an unrelenting heat inside that threatens to drive me to my knees. I long to peel my jacket from my body, but I can’t seem to make my arms obey me. They stay clutched around my midsection in a misguided attempt to self-soothe. Not that it’s helping any.
Soft strains of holiday music reverberate under the din, setting my teeth on edge. Merry and bright. Everything is supposed to be merry and bright. How did this happen? Despite the number of times I repeat the question in my mind, there is no answer.
“Big plans?” a pleasant voice hums behind me.
Turning, I give the slim woman wrestling a large holiday bag a thin smile. She looks joyous, happy, and excited. As she should be. Honestly, as I was, until I saw the horrid balance.
Clearing my throat, I do my best to push my fear aside and give her as genuine a grin as I can muster. “My brother and I like to look at the lights. I’ve been told the McCleary house is going all out this year.”
“Oh,” she exclaims as she hoists the bag on her hip. I’ve just driven past. I think they’re almost done. You will absolutely enjoy it. He’s certainly outdone himself, but I won’t spoil it for you.”
Before I can fake a cheerful response, the line moves up with me being called next. Giving another false smile I definitely don’t feel, I walk up to the cashier and rest my hands on the wood sill.
“How may I help you?” The older woman seems almost bored as she peers at me through the glass and bars.
“I- I think there’s a problem with my account. I-”
“Account number and identification.”
My lips pull down into a frown as I slide my bank card and license to her.
“What seems to be the problem?” she intones and clacks away at the keys.
“My account is negative, and I’m worried someone has hacked me.”
Her eyes narrow as her gaze drifts down the screen. “Ma’am, most of this is overdraft fees. Were you aware you were over your amount?”
Air stills in my lungs as I take in her words. “No? I haven’t done much on my account. If it’s overdrawn, it has to be hacked.”
With a heavy sigh, she clicks around some more and reaches down for a handful of paper. “A bank representative will be with you shortly. Have a seat over there.”
Grabbing everything from her, I turn and give the lady behind me a wan smile. Since she didn’t manage to overhear anything, she flashes me a big one back as she bustles up to the counter. As I make my way over to the chairs, I sink down as my legs nearly give out in front of me.
The words blur on the paper as I try to make sense of them. A massive row of red words with a negative sign goes nearly down the first page. Overdraft fee, overdraft fee, overdraft fee. Over and over -$36, -$36, -$36 as far as my eye can drift down. That clench of nausea nearly overwhelms me as I continue to the next page. Hopefully, there I can determine what the thief stole so I can relay it to the person overseeing my case.
Only… every transaction on there, every cent, every dollar is something I’ve personally spent. Insurance. Wasn’t that supposed to come out last paycheck? No. I must have miscounted the days. Same with several other bigger bills that were either supposed to have already come out or weren’t set to hit for another week or so.
Tears gather in my eyes, hot and stingy, as I look at my destruction. With the bigger items coming out, some of the smaller luxuries I gave myself tipped the scale. Not to mention the low-cost, government-provided suppressants that come every fucking month that I somehow forgot about, even though I take those round little bastards daily.
OVERDRAFT FEE – $35.00
S&S SENTHETICS – $25.99
OVERDRAFT FEE – $35.00
INS. HOME AND AUTO – 125.00
OVERDRAFT FEE –$35.00
ITEM RETURNED FEE –$35.00
PAYROLL DEP METROWAVE WIRELESS+$800.00
CONTINUOUS OVERDRAFT FEE –$105.00
DOUG’S DONUTS- $2.89
OVERDRAFT FEE - $36.00
PAYROLL DEP METROWAVE WIRELESS - +$100.00
SAM’S GROCERY- $15.32
OVERDRAFT FEE- $36.00
There, in the middle of all this mess, is the holiday bonus I’d been counting on. Not nearly the three hundred others whispered about. I knew it was foolish to count on something that’s never a guaranteed thing, but then… what else am I supposed to do?
Shaking my head, I continue to study the sheet. On and on it goes until I can’t look at it anymore. How did this happen? I thought everything was planned to the very cent. Anger and fear coalesce into a ball of terror as I clench the papers in my fist. How can they fix this? How can I?
My paycheck also wasn’t quite what I was expecting. Seems as if my sick days didn’t cover everything. Stupid. So freaking stupid. I should have checked. I always check. Why didn’t I this time?
“Miss Hayes?” a deep, masculine voice rings out?
My head shoots up as I watch the banker approach. He at least doesn’t look as bored as the cashier. That has to be good, at any rate. Standing, I shake his hand and walk over to the small cubical to the side.
Tears already burn my eyes as I sit and slide the papers over to him. Can he even fix this? Can anyone?
Leaning back in his chair, he looks the figures over and lets out a low whistle. “Goodness, Miss Hayes. This is quite the situation. Any idea what happened?”
“I thought I was hacked,” I grumble as I twiddle my thumbs. “Apparently not. Everything just hit at once, and my planning didn’t account for it. I- I budgeted. I swear. I- I-.” My throat clogs as I motion toward the papers. “I don’t know what happened.”
“It’s a mess,” he agrees as he taps some things out on his keyboard. “And the account isn’t all that old.”
“No. I switched over to here because the fees were less. I’d hate to think what they would be at another bank.”
“I wish I could help you. It’s just far too new to grant any clemency. Until you can cover the fees, your account will continue to accrue charges with each purchase.”
Blood drains from my face. “You can’t be serious. There’s nothing? Nothing? I- I don’t understand,” I shriek, unable to temper my voice. It’s as if everything crashes in on me without the ability to stop it.
“Miss,” he soothes as he stares at me, his eyes widening as if I’m some sort of threat. “I need you to calm down.”
“Calm down? You want me to calm down?” It’s as if the dam finally breaks, releasing all the stress, all the anguish, and all the painful rage I keep locked inside, for Daniel’s sake. “How can you tell me to calm down? Christmas is about a week away. I have no money. In fact, I owe y’all more money than I can ever make and still pay my bills. And you want me to calm down?”
“Please,” he murmurs again as he motions toward the people on the other side of the glass.
Somehow, I don’t care that they can see me. What’s the worst they can do? Judge me? They’re not thinking anything I haven’t already said to my face in a mirror.
“This doesn’t make sense. Shouldn’t the card just stop when there’s no money? How in the hell did I get all these fees?”
“If you’ll just sit down-”
“No!” I yell as I slam my palms against his desk. “I can’t sit down. I have to fix this. You have to fix this!”
“He doesn’t have to do anything,” a deep voice booms out behind me. “Now settle.”
His words slither into my brain, short-circuiting my thoughts until my body simply complies. An Alpha command. Fuck.
