San Fransisco,California.
15th of December, 2013.
11:56pm.

Fredo Oliveira turned in his bed,buried his nose in the blue velvet covers,then lay still. He was as restless as ever,each time the year was coming to an end.  It didn't help that his neighbour's Christmas lights blinked through his thick dark curtain against his better judgement.

All thanks to his ex-wife,Christmas would never remain the same again.

Fredo met Sancha Sandoval when he was a fresh man in college. He liked her instantly,even though she was way out of his league since she came from a high class family and he from a middle class family,and Sancha was the partying and fun loving type. Which was why he kept his liking her to himself.

He had been surprised one day when she approached him out of the blue to ask him to be her friend. He jumped at the opportunity and they hit off ever since then. Fredo had been the one to ask her out,while Sancha was this one who asked him to marry her. It was like a dream come true.

At least that was what he thought back then.

After graduation,they got married and both started working as a doctor in the same hospital. Everything was fine,even when she got pregnant and he became a surgeon. When she was around eight months,the hospital gave her maternity leave.

It was then the problems began.

Sancha became constantly angry and complained about how Fredo put her where she was right now. How much she hated him and his life. Fredo bore it all,thinking that it was her hormones talking.

Until the day that their daughter,Kelsia Oliveira turned three months old. Fredo went to work that Christmas morning and came back to an empty house, a crying infant and a note with one simple word.

'Sorry."

No explanation whatsoever. Until he saw a news about her and her new Italian lover on TV a month later.

Fredo had been crushed. He would have ended his life,if not for the fact that he had an infant to think of. He must admit that taking care of Kelsia for the past Six years,was not easy,because she was a miniature copy of her mother. It was as if fate wanted to make fun of him.

Unable to sleep anymore,Fredo threw back the covers,got out of bed,slipped his slippers on and walked out of the room;dressed in boxers shorts only. He stopped by briefly to check in on his daughter,before going down the stairs. He headed straight for the kitchen.

It looked just as Sancha left it six years ago. The large refrigerator her father,Juan Pablo Sandoval,gave them stood tall at the other end of the room. A microwave sat underneath a kitchen cabinet,which was directly above the work top. Beneath the worktop were several kitchen units, were the knives and other things were stored. The breakfast bar faced the window,out looking the neighborhood fences.

A grill,few feet away from the refrigerator,had a an oven,where Sancha used to bake cake for them,underneath it.

Angry at himself for thinking about a wife that was in Italy living it up with her famous lover,Fredo stomped over to the refrigerator, grabbed a carton of milk and drank straight from it. His daughter would have a fit if she caught him drinking directly from the carton.

The thought of Kelsia glaring up at him with her little mouth purses in disapproval was enough to wring him out of his disturbed state.

Fredo replaced the carton cap and walked out of the kitchen,after returning back into the fridge. He walked back to the sitting room to switch the TV on. He groaned when the first thing he saw was Christmas carolers grinding out 'joy to the world' in a sweet and cheerful tone.

He grabbed the remote to change the channels,each of them were showing Christmas Carols. Fredo gave up and switched the TV off. He turned back to go upstairs to his room to get some sleep,when a sound caught his attention.

Fredo waited and listened for the sound to come again,but he was met with silence. Cursing Sancha and Christmas all together, for making him miserable,Fredo started for the stairs,when another sound came.

This time,it sounded as if something was broken. A muttered curse followed.

It was coming from the kitchen backdoor. Fredo realised with a start.

Walking lightly,Fredo walked into the kitchen,switched the light off and went to grab one of the several knives from the knife rack. He stalked towards the door and waited with his back pressed to the wall;his knife poised ready.

The sound of someone falling with a loud thud,made him freeze.

Why would someone want to break in through the backdoor,when he could run into someone?

Fredo's blood ran cold at the thought of Kelsia being in the kitchen when the intruder broke in. He sent a quick prayer of thanks to whoever was responsible for making him come downstairs at this time.

The noise stopped all together and all that followed was panting and wheezing. Which made Fredo frowned.

Just how many fence did the intruder climb before getting here?

Reaching for the dead bolt,Fredo pulled it back,unlocking the door. Then he moved back with the knife raised,expecting the person to burst in through the door. He was disappointed,when nothing of the sort happened.

What if the person was waiting for him to make the first move?

Ha! No such luck.

Fredo waited and waited. Somewhere in the neighbour hood,a clock bell tolled,signalling that it was twelve already. His palms began to sweat as he waited for whoever was on the other side of the door to make a move.

There was no move at all,except for the panting and wheezing sound that was becoming more faint as the time ticked by.

Unable to take the suspense anymore, he reached for the door knob,turned it and wrenched the door opened,his knife raise ready. Fredo hoped and prayed that they were not armed with any weapons as he peered out,only to see a figure, dressed in black hoodie, matching black sweat pant and white sneakers,crumpled, face down,on the steps leading to the kitchen door.

The figure lifted it's head up. Fredo found himself staring into the most startling green eyes,he had ever seen.

His heart skipped a beat.

"Help me," the figure wheezed out.

Fredo almost dropped the knife at the feminine voice that greeted his ears. He stared down at her,chalk white face,wondering what she was saying. Her words came out like a little squeak. His gaze searched the large expanse of his backyard for any accomplice. He found none.

His eyes returned to her. "Who are you?"

"I-" she started to say,but never did complete it,because she slumped,face down,on the concrete.

Thinking that this was a plan on her part,Fredo moved down a couple of steps until he was standing before her, then reached out,with his leg,to tap her.

No move came from her.

He tried again and got the same result. "Miss,I don't know who you are,but I suggest you leave before I call the police."

Still no reaction or movement on her part.

Calling himself one thousand type of fools,he crouched down and reached out a hand to tap her shoulder. When she still didn't move,Fredo touched a hand to her other shoulder and frowned when be felt something warm ans sticky.

He drew his hand away from her body and raised it up from inspection.

What he saw rocked him back on his heels and had him gasping in shock.

Fredo forgot all about the fact that the someone else might be around,as he reached for that shoulder and managed to cut the sleeve of the hoodie away with the knife he brought with him earlier. The sight that greeted him made him fear for her life.

Blood. Lots and lots of blood.

She had been shot.

-

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QOTD: if you were Fredo,would you take the risk of attacking the intruder on your own or call the police?