I have become very anti-Christmas over the years. I can explain why now but that will take too long. I will save that for another time. But I wish to share with you a short, short story about Christmas. A story that isn’t about the happiness and the joy of the holidays. This is a story about the dark side of it. Or really, just a story I wanted to write a twist on the holiday people love dearly.
Billy lies awake in his bed. He is too excited to sleep. Each time he closes his eyes, he sees Santa. He sees the bundle of presents that he’ll get and hopes that there are more than just his little mind can think of. Billy looks at his alarm clock. It is just past two in the morning. “Surely Santa should be arriving by now.” He thinks to himself. By some strange coincidence, that is the exact time Santa arrives at his house. Billy can hear the reindeer on the roof and listens as Santa walks from his sleigh to the chimney.
Billy shuts his eyes tight. He doesn’t want Santa to know he is awake and is waiting for him. He is not going to be punished with a lump of coal in his stocking. His mom and dad told him Santa will punish any kid who is caught sneaking any sort of glance at him. Billy keeps his eyes shut, squeezing tightly to not let the slightest bit of light in. Billy hears Santa inside the chimney. He can hear him making his way inside the house. He hears him pass through the living room. He’ll have to stop in the dining room before he reaches the tree. The dining room has cookies and milk. Billy knows that those two are Santa’s favorites. Before he went to bed, he made sure that everything was right. He wanted Santa to be treated like a king. Billy folds. He just cannot handle it anymore. He leaps from his bed and takes the quietest steps that he’s ever taken. He slowly opens his door. The door is barely ajar, but he can still see a slight bit of Santa. Billy feels like he is the first kid to ever see Santa. Billy keeps his eye pressed against the door crack, watching Santa put out the gifts till he vanishes from view.
“Is that all the gifts I get!?” Billy shouts out with a hint of anger in his voice.
The frustration in his voice falls on deaf ears. Santa was long gone and not around to hear the tantrum coming from a spoiled kid like Billy. He stands by his bedroom door, his eyes still peering outside at the tree below. He listen as Santa gets back into his sleigh and hears him and his 8 tiny reindeers take off, heading towards the next house on his block. Billy is not having this! He isn’t going to have Santa leave him with just a small amount of gifts. Billy rushes to the tree. Sure enough, there are but only a few gifts. Billy is clearly upset. He knows he’s been a good boy all year long. He’s listened to his parents and was nice to the kids at school. He was the epitome of a patron saint.
Billy looks around. He checks for his parents, making sure they aren’t going to jump out from the kitchen to scold him for his actions. He is alone. His parents, who are still upstairs, are asleep in their bed, waiting like most normal people for the morning before they unwrap what gifts Santa brought them. “I can open one gift and they’ll never know…” Billy takes one more glance around the room. No one is around. He tore into the presents, throwing the wrapping paper every which way. The box is heavy, which when something is heavy, it means good things to a kid.
Billy opens the gift and screams in terror. It contains the severed head of his mother. Billy drops the blood-stained box. His mom’s decapitated head rolls out, smearing blood across the floor, till it stops and rests near the fireplace. Billy runs upstairs to his parent’s room, hoping that this is not real and just him having a bad dream. But no, it is not a dream. His parents are dead and Santa is the culprit. Billy sits on his parent’s bed, cry and screaming, trying to find some reason as to why this happened.
Billy feels a tap on his shoulder. It is far from a warm and comforting feel. Billy turns around. Standing in front of him is Santa. He is drenched in blood, the blood of his recently murdered parents. He smiles at Billy. The death of Billy’s parents was a joyful thing for him. But with the death of his parents, it means something far worse for Billy. For when Santa catches a child spying on him, it isn’t just the parents that meet an untimely end, it’s also the child. “Get him!” Santa calls out to his elves. The elves snatch Billy up, tossing him into an empty sack on Santa’s sleigh.
Billy is brought back to the North Pole. Santa tosses him into a room, a cold room with nothing inside. Santa informs Billy that he is now a slave to him. “All you were taught of happy elves is a lie, Billy. Curiosity killed the cat and you, Billy are that cat. Welcome to your new home! I guess you’re second guessing taking a peek now, aren’t you!?” Santa laughs.
Santa points to a table. It is covered in tools used for crafts and obviously, toy making, “Make yourself at home, Billy. You’re going to be here for a long time!” Santa chuckles, laughing and holding his belly. “You need to start working on all the toys for the GOOD boys and girls. I don’t want you want to know what happens to all the happy elves who disobey me.” Santa glances at his reindeers. They look famished after a long night of delivery toys. “They get hungry and food is food, Billy.” Santa smiles.
Santa didn’t have to explain anymore. Billy knew then what happens if he didn’t listen to Santa. Billy picks up a tool and begins working. It will be a long time before he puts that tool down.
The North Pole is home to no happy elves. They were never elves, they were once children, curious children who wanted nothing more than to see Santa in action. The elves are defenseless children, children who were taken by Santa to work in his factory. Once a child becomes a member of his workshop, their memories from before will fade away, only leaving them with the idea that they are and always have been elves at Santa’s workshop.
The next morning, Erin walks down to the living room. She rubs her eyes, trying to wake up from a long night. “Mom? Dad? Are you guys awake?” She grabs a cookie from the plate. The milk is gone, a sign that Santa was there. “Where is everyone?” She sees the presents scattered under the tree. While there might not be an abundance of gifts, the sight of just one is enough to send Erin into a frenzy!
“Santa came! Mom! Dad! Come quick! Santa came! Billy, hurry up! You need to see this!” Erin calls out their names and instead of waiting, grabs a present. The box is heavy and when a box is heavy, that can only mean good things to a kid.
pitweston
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