I hated Christmas. Maybe it was more afraid.
I never was the person singing carols or handing out presents. I was too terrified to. Every time I heard the sound of jingle bells a shiver went up my spine. The sound of presents being unwrapped reminded me of that night….the night I began to fear Christmas…
“Mum I don’t want to go to bed!! I want to stay up and wait for Santa!!!” I pleaded.
“Sweetheart, come on Santa only comes after you’ve fallen asleep…” I looked up at my mother’s delicate face and sighed. My eyes gleamed with tears. I really wanted to see Santa. Helplessly I climbed into bed and laid my head on my pillow and pulled the blanket up. My mother stroked my forehead and softly kissed my cheeks.
“Goodnight angel,” she whispered and left the room. That night I tried to fall asleep but for some reason I couldn’t. I looked up at the ceiling and started humming to myself. Then I heard a soft thud on the carpet. They were footsteps. They footsteps lightly thudded across the carpet it seemed as if though were going down the corridor. I wondered if my mother would’ve heard its. I decided to follow. The whole house was pitch black and nothing could be seen except for the brightly glowing Christmas tree.
I carefully walked in the darkness slowly feeling my way around. I suddenly froze in my tracks as I heard the sound of bells jingling. They seemed to be coming from the living room. Excitement filled my body. It must be Santa. Unable to hold the excitement I quickly gaited towards the living room and peeked into the living room. In the glow of the Christmas tree I could clearly see a tall silhouette. I rubbed my eyes and looked again to see a Santa. He was actually standing in my living room beside m Christmas tree. Oddly he started unwrapping all the presents under the tree and it made a loud scrunching noise. It grabbed all the wrapping and started making loud noises with them. Then my mother’s room light turned on. I hid behind the dining table and watched my mother emerge from the darkness. She stepped into the light of the Christmas tree and stifled a cry. I thought she was surprised to see Santa.
Santa grabbed my mother by her hair and dragged her towards the window. My mother tried to cry but Santa’s gloved hands muffled the sounds. My body was frozen with fear and I couldn’t breathe. Tears welled in my eyes and I tried to call out but no sound escaped. I tried to move but it was hopeless. Then I saw Santa draw out a knife…I feared the worst and shut my eyes tightly. The last thing I heard from my mother was a muffled whimper and then the sound of her lifeless body falling to the ground. I choked on my tears and tried not to make a sound since Santa was still in the house. Afraid he might find me I shuffled deeper under the table. I could see Santa’s feet pacing up and down and then he stopped moving.
My heart beat loudly and sweat trickled down my forehead. I dared not to move. Weirdly I felt hot air on the side of my neck. My heart doubled in my chest and my breathing grew huskier. I slowly turned my head to the side, “HO HO HO” Santa sat beside me holding a knife attached with jingle bells. Unable to stand the fear I screamed and everything suddenly went black.
I had a reason to fear Christmas and I was right to…but no one believed me for all they thought I was just a frightened six years old and took me away. Now I was stuck here. Slowly I got up and looked out my room window there was a sign. It read Juvenile mental Institution.
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