Foot steps, the most natural sound in the world, something you commonly hear especially if you don’t live alone; though if you do and no one is around those steps are the most terrifying noises one could ever hear. I have been plagued with the most dreadful sounds of foot steps walking towards me since I was a teen, it happens at night, when I’m tucked into bed, feeling the gravity of the world forcing my eyes shut; foot steps seem to cautiously appear; the sound slowly creeping it’s way into my mind.
‘thud thud thud’
I try my best to not sleep, I wish I could say I suffer from insomnia or some other sleep disorder but unfortunately I don’t, instead I drink endless amounts of coffee each night not wanting to close my eyes. On average I get about 2 hours of rest and some how I’ve been able to make that work, my friends think I’ve gone mad but they don’t hear what I hear, those monstrous steps, they started off from a distance, slight shuffling like the sounds a kid would make when not wanting to walk forward; just dragging their feet, but eventually the timid steps transitioned into a more profound one, one with malevolence.
The sound usually awakes me sometime in the middle of the night, darkness still shrouding my room in a daze of mystery, as soon as my eyes shoot open there would be nothing; the once bewildering sounds that echoed with such dominance simply vanish. Originally I didn’t think much about it, I told my parents about the foot steps and they shrugged it off telling me it was part of my dreams; that sometimes dreams crossover into the real world. I was confused, I didn’t know what they meant about the dream world colliding with our own but I took their words to heart and tried my best not to fear the sound. The closer the ponderous steps would get I would just remind myself it was all in my mind, that whoever were making those noises in the dream world couldn’t hurt me here. The older I got the more dreadful the steps became, I would tell myself I was too old to be scared of boogeymen, so I went on about my life to the best I could not letting imaginary beasts conquer my world. I wouldn’t always hear the sounds sometimes I would go months without hearing anything but I noticed the older I got the more frequent the steps would become, it wasn’t until I was in my thirties that the sounds would happen at least once a week and now they’re every night.
‘thud thud thud’.
I could feel the presence of some ungodly entity approaching me, their shadow lengthy arms reaching out through the mist of darkness to grab me as I slumbered in the realm of the unconscious, I know what it wants, something I took when I was young, it wasn’t suppose to be like this and all I wish for is for me to take it back.
I’m from a small town one you probably have never heard of, its somewhere up north, a land of grey skies and dirt roads, though the small pond we call home blossoms each year around Christmas time. The little town that time forget transforms from one of despair to beauty, the embodiment of the season, the old withered buildings with cracks become covered with flashing lights of all hues — red, green and blue. Our town center that was abandoned is now inundated with reefs and endless strings of garland, but more astonishing is the wonderment of our Christmas tree; a massive relic that holds the keys to the center of our universe — standing taller than our own town hall. The jovial display of a facade is created for the tourist, strangers come to our home consuming all the resources only to leave an empty shell once the season is over and then it would take another year for my city to come back to life with the resurrection of holiday spirit.
Smiles and laughter fill the streets as wealthy families take part in the festivities, drinking over priced hot chocolate while paving our roads with their trash; empty cartoons and candy wrappers. My parents owned a small shop right in the heart of town, the Christmas tree shining it’s marvelous glow through our store windows, giving us a glimpse into the spectacle of what tourist experienced when coming here. As one might of guessed we were no different from the other town folk, we were not that well off and I spent my winter breaks helping out at our store during the busy season. Here is where I got to see all the other children from out of town smiling with wonderment as their parents gifted them with almost every present they could ask for. I honestly grew to despise these families, seeing how gleeful they were while we struggled to keep the lights on.
My father was always looking for quick ‘get rich’ schemes; convinced that all he had to do was find the right scam, because of this he wasted away our entire life savings by the time I was 10. So our entire families income depended on our little candle store that was left to my mother by her parents, it wasn’t much and through out the year most of the town wouldn’t spend a dime on luxuries such as scented candles, but during the holiday season the out towners would come in the droves; all too excited to buy their little piece of our country life. To be honest I hated it, the stench of candy cane and cinnamon plagued my nostrils for months after the season was over and all I ever dreamt of was for our candles to melt away like some horrid scene you would see in some scary movie, the amber flame slowly pecking away at the wax like some wood pecker demolishing a tree. By the time I was in middle school I pleaded with my parents to not force me to work in the store, I was tired of all the out of town kids looking down on me, their judgmental stares and snickering had me on the edge, but I think even worse I was tired of having a front row view to that obnoxious over sized tree. Well, it wasn’t so much the tree itself, it was more of what was in front of it, an empty golden chair with red velvet cushions; it was Santa’s chair.
As long as I can remember our tradition of having Santa visit the town center was always the same, the week before Christmas the jolly old man would arrive and sit at his throne, inviting all the eager kids unto to his lap, each one filled with hopes of having their ideal present gifted to them on Christmas morning. When I was 7 years old my parents stood me in line to meet the man that epitomized the jovial holiday, I remember being bewildered at how long the wait was, I could see all the other kids smiling reveling in the premise of meeting the old man; all thinking that asking him for some gift would magically assure them of their dream. For my age I knew I wasn’t like the other kids, most of them that stood in line weren’t from my town, I knew asking some stranger for some gift was just as foolish as wishing for something when blowing out your birthday candles. Though, my parents thought the whole event would make me happy, or maybe they just needed time for themselves, either way they left me in line as they drifted away to finish some Christmas shopping all while the adults dressed like elves kept a close eye me.
For whatever reason I felt the strange sensation of trepidation slowly creeping it’s way into my small mind, the longer I waited the more that feeling of dread only grew, I think it was the permeating sound of that laughter; Santa’s laughter. The man would belch out with most agonizing chuckle anytime a new kid would sit on his lap, I even covered my ears a few times trying to block out the abysmal noise, but when I did the elves would walk over to me and forcefully pull my hands down. Honestly by the time I was a few kids away I pondered the idea of just slipping out of line and searching for my parents, as soon I worked up the courage to do so it was my turn, one of the elves picked me up with a bit despondency but their actions quickly turned into one of urgency. Rushing me over then plopping me down on to the old mans lap, his laughter tearing into my ear drums like daggers, I tried not to make eye contact with the dreadful man but to my dismay he pulled my gaze towards his, our eyes clashing in the middle like shooting stars colliding in to one another; it was disturbing. His once laughter faded and all that remained was a stoic frown of indifference as I waited anxiously for him to speak. I could see how old the man was, his skin was thin as paper and his ocean blue eyes sharper than the Atlantic itself. His breath inundated my face with it’s horrid stench as I practically gagged out from disgust, but, before I could let out a subtle cough the man spoke.
“You are not a good boy, you are naughty” he told me with a raspy voice, anger seeping out of his tongue as each syllable lashed me with it’s heavy tone.
I just stared at him in bewilderment, I felt like crying but no tears would accumulate, no whimpers could be manifested instead I remained frozen, a defense mechanism that could only be compared to a dodo bird. An astonishing snarl formed on his melted face as his pathetic dirty grey beard scratched the top of my forehead. I don’t know how long I was on Santa’s lap, it could of been for hours, time seemed to dissolve into a infinite void, the next memory I have is of my parents talking to me outside of the designated area that was guarded off as “Santa’s Workshop”, inquiring what I had asked for, their smiling faces completely clueless to what I had just experienced. Being a kid I questioned my own memory thinking that perhaps I had fallen asleep in line, never meeting the jolly old man, though, I could still hear his laughter simmer around the narrow streets of our town center and it sent chills up my spine. I didn’t bother answering my parents, I just told them that I wanted to go home, the grinding of my insides didn’t allow me to say many words but I think they could tell by my dead stare that it was time to leave.
After that I did my best not to let the bizarre encounter ruin my cheerful spirit, back then I rather enjoyed the ambiance that the season brought, snowflakes and eggnog, especially my mothers pumpkin pie. Even though we were poor I still received several gifts, usually some trinket that could be bought at the dollar store, but I didn’t care the thought of someone thinking of me filled my heart with joy. That Christmas morning was like the ones prior, I opened several presents, they were mainly small scaled action figures, some knock off super hero that no one ever heard of one that resembled “Spiderman”. My parents enjoyed seeing me relish in the delight of new toys, the after math of shredded wrapping paper glistening in our dimly lit room was a clear indication that present time was over. I remember my parents walking away getting ready for our annual Christmas breakfast telling me they would clean later, as they walked away I noticed there was still one unopened gift hiding behind our tree, the wrapping was to perfection, a shiny silk red bow displayed in the center of the present.
My heart accelerated with pure bliss thinking I had discovered some secret my parents were hiding from me in hopes that I would find it by myself. I looked down at the note, my heart sank, it didn’t say it was from ‘mom’ or ‘dad’, instead it said ‘from Santa’. I stared at the hand written label with disbelief, my parents knew I didn’t believe in Santa why would they bother with the theatrics? I didn’t contemplate on the enigma too long, I was all too eager to see what secrets the mystifying gift would supply. I shook the box a few times trying to identify any recognizable sound but heard nothing, the weight alone suggested that only air would be behind the walls of the box. I torn into the gift with wonderment and for whatever reason a slight shiver ran across my body, subtle memories of that dreadful Santa consumed my thoughts and as I opened the mystery I saw there was only a sealed envelope. I narrowed my eyes confounded as to why my parents would put a note inside of a box, either way I proceeded to open the envelope anticipating money being enclosed inside but instead it was a simple note, one that didn’t take long to read.
“Naughty boy”, was written boldly in red paint, or I could only hope it was red paint.
I remember dropping the letter and running in search of my parents, tears cascading down my face. I told them about the note, that it was from Santa but they looked at me as if I had gone insane, they reminded me that Santa wasn’t real and to add to my lunacy the letter was gone; as if the mountain of wrapping paper swallowed all evidence of my delusion. I even jumped into the pile like some seal jumping into water doing my best to find it but there was nothing, no proof of what I saw was real.
The next year my parents tried to stick me in that same line and I argued to no end that I wanted nothing to do with it, I could see how perturbed they were especially my father, that’s when they told me if I wasn’t going to act like a child during Christmas then they were going to treat me like an adult and that’s when I was forced to help out at the store. That Christmas morning another mysterious gift found its way burrowed underneath our tree, only presenting itself when I was alone, like the year prior it was a simple note; one that needed no clarification,
“Naughty boy”.
The incoming years soared right by and every winter I would have a front row seat when it came to seeing that horrid man; him taking his throne each year with such hubris as he passed judgment to all the patiently waiting children. I continued receiving mystery gifts or I should say notes, the message always the same; eventually I convinced myself that it was one of my stupid friends playing some life long prank on me, knowing how we treated each other the thought wasn’t too outrageous. I was always befuddled of how our town was able to reserve the same Santa, I knew he wasn’t from our community and seeing how old he was I assumed and hoped that he would pass but as I entered my teen years it quickly became evident that the geezer had some real fight in him. By the time I reached high school the boogeyman that would sit in front of our store bothered me less and my threatening letters seemed more comical than nefarious.
As usual the corpse of my lonely town sprung to life as the holiday rolled around, the walking zombies that I called my neighbors were now filled with hope understanding that the next few months would supplement half their annual income. I on the other hand wasn’t so keen, by this point just like any other teenager my thoughts were consumed by girls and working in my parents candle store wasn’t on the top of my list at trying to attract one. I begged my parents to not have to work this particular year, I told them I would do all the house chores, that I would even re-shingle the roof; just anything to get out of working at the store. It wasn’t that I was ashamed of my parents but I was tired of seeing the kids from out of town look at me with such disdain, if it were any other time period I could visualize them flicking me a penny as a tip, I couldn’t stand the thought, especially because of her; Kimberly. She was from our neighboring city, like me she didn’t come from money, but, each year her parents would drag her here to celebrate the holiday; them stopping in to buy some small candles for caroling.
The first time I had saw her I must of been 10 years old and right away I was completely smitten, she was beautiful a single dove in sea of pigeons, I remember always blushing whenever her and her family would come in and I did my best to hide behind the counter in hopes that my mother would attend to them. Though my stealthy nature was left to be desired and it was quite evident to her family that I was available, I tried my best to act as if the blood wasn’t rushing to my face I remember Kimberly’s parents asking if I was ill, all I could do is shake my head reassuring them I was fine but that’s when it happened when we locked eyes, Kimberly knew I was blushing because of her and the largest smile formed on her angelic face; I would of floated away in that moment if it wasn’t for her parents breaking my day dream asking how much was the candle they were purchasing.
Each year I would see different versions of Kimberly, her growing into the gracious woman she would eventually be, but behind the different outfits and hairstyles I could always see her light, shining brighter than any star; I would see her beauty. My attraction wasn’t one sided and she too was all too excited to see me each year all be it for mere minutes. Eventually I worked up the courage to get her number and it didn’t take long for us to build a bond, I was beyond thrilled to see her for the holiday but I knew I needed more time with her, this is why I told my parents I couldn’t work in the store, but unfortunately they told me this wasn’t an option. Being the good kid I was I complied and asked Kimberly if she could sneak out of their rental lodge when her and her parents came to town; that’s when I would make time for her.
She was quite understanding, this idea satisfied her and we decided to meet at the town center, she wanted to meet by the tree. When the hour struck I snuck out my back window my heart racing a million miles all to indulged with the premise of being able to kiss my crush, something I’ve dreamed of for years and if Santa were ever real kissing Kimberly would of been at the top of my list of things I wanted for Christmas. The night felt different, the breeze prickled at my skin like small knives cutting deep gashes amongst my cheeks and the thin air seem to be vacate my lungs for higher ground, something was definitely off and the only thing my teenage mind came up with was the fact I was meeting Kimberly. I told myself that it was just nerves, I’ve built up this moment far too long and now I was psyching myself out, I didn’t let my trepidation consume me, instead I pressed on with reassurance that Kimberly’s soft pouty lips awaited me on the other end of this dark foreboding tunnel.
When I arrived to the town square I could see Kimberly silhouette standing next to the Christmas tree, the monstrosity’s oversized shadow encapsulated her in a vague darkness. Our town was quiet, I could hear the rustling of leaves brush against the pavement, swirls of debris colliding against park benches as the wind randomly guided them across our city. My fear did not subside by this point, in fact, it seemed to only strengthen.
“Uh, Kimberly?” I called out nervously.
The shadow beneath the tree did nothing, no response or recognition of any type, perhaps she had headphones on; maybe she was listening to music as she awaited me, I stepped closer as the thumping of my own heart beat inundated my hearing, but soon that sound was replaced by one that was unnatural, a mechanical one, but it came almost in a rhythmic pulse just as my heart. I stopped to get a better listen as I inhaled deeply trying to ease my breathing, the sound was a bit more vivid, the pulsating noise escalated to a faster pace, becoming more frequent and after what seemed like minutes I realized what the odd sound was, it was the sound of bells.
“Kimberly?” I called out once again this time with a whimper as the shaky tone that found its way out of my mouth fell on deaf ears.
The shadow that I presumed was Kim still did nothing, it stood there without a glitch, I contemplated in those few seconds if this was all wrong, those sounds of bells began to approach closer as the strong wind kept swirling around me. I gulped with a heavy sigh and knew I was being silly, there was nothing to be concerned of, I waited for this moment far too long and I needed to finally hold Kimberly in my arms. Before I could take another step my phone chimed, it breaking my chilling reflection, I pulled out my flip phone and looked at the message, the words sending pricks of needles down my spine; it was from Kimberly.
“Where the hell are you? I’ve been waiting for an hour. Hello? I’m going home” it read.
It was a series of texts; all from her asking about my where abouts, I stood perplexed of how this was even possible, the time stamps showed that she was here at this moment; midnight. I flipped my phone closed and looked at the time on the small screen, it said it was 3 A.M. How was that possible? I left my house exactly at 11:30, it wouldn’t have taken me more than 15 minute’s to walk to downtown. I remained frozen with uncertainty of how this was even possible but then out of the corner of my eye I finally saw that shadow move. Whoever was standing under neath the branches of the tree finally turned to look at me, I practically dropped my phone from the mere sight, it then started to walk towards me all while those dam bell’s got louder. I didn’t bother looking back, I ran the fastest as I could home, quickly crawling in through my window and locking it shut. I stayed up most of the night staring out my bedroom window ready for that shadow to try and enter, I really didn’t know what I would of done if had breached in but luckily that never happened, instead I woke up with the largest headache on the floor, a pile of my own sweat drenched my clothes.
The next day I shrugged off the bizarre encounter as nothing more than another prank done by my friends and I laughed thinking that they indeed had got me good. Although that didn’t explain the time lapse I had experienced and no matter how much I scratched my head nothing of reasonable explanation came to me other than I must of fallen into some weird trance, like sleep walking; it reminded me of that time I had memory loss after sitting on Santa’s lap. Even though I was happy dismissing the strange event Kimberly didn’t forgive me, her and her family came into the shop the next day to buy their usual candles, I dragged her to the side as her parents picked out which scent they wanted.
It was clear that she was angry with me, her beautiful face displayed a frown that I still found endearing, she had told me that she waited for almost an hour and said that I was playing some devilish prank on her, she told me she could hear me walking around the tree jumping out of sight anytime she tried catching a glimpse of the person. I told her it wasn’t me, that I never made it to the tree while she was there and I told her about my bewildering experience but she didn’t buy it. She told me that she never wanted to hear from me again and to my dismay she blocked my number, seeing her push those few buttons and eliminating me from her phone was the most gut wrenching devastation I’ve ever felt. No matter how much I pleaded with her to reconsider, she left me destroyed, walking back to her parents as if I no longer existed.
That same day the man that I’ve grown to despise took his seat at his throne, all to the cheers of our small community, with my heart shattered I didn’t even bother looking out the window. Though as the day passed I felt eyes on me, like someone was leering at me, that feeling you get when you think you’re being followed. It wasn’t until the cheering subsided did I have chance to calculate where my sixth sense was picking up the threat, of course the gaze that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand were coming from him, Santa. When a child wasn’t sitting on his lap he would direct his mischievous stare towards me, the vicious snarl that frighten me as a kid now more sinister than ever. I closed the blinds to the store no longer wanting to see anyone, I wanted the world to disappear, or better yet I wanted to melt away to oblivion just like our candles.
Even with the blinds closed I could still hear the mans dreadful laughter, him belching out that phony chuckle almost every minute. I took out my phone and looked at Kimberly’s phone number and I could feel tears form on the corner of my eye lids, it had only been hours but it felt like she had been out of my life for years. I closed the store down early and told my parents that I just didn’t feel well, which was the truth, my heartache was beyond any illness.
The rest of the week I had hope that Kimberly would change her mind, I dreamt that any moment that she would walk into the store, smiling showering me in her light, but that never happened instead Santa’s laughter would haunt my thoughts. Days passed and Christmas was soon approaching, Kimberly would be leaving home after the holiday and the thought left me empty, though Santa too would be leaving which brought a bit of smile to my sad face. I knew if I was ever going to get Kim to forgive me I had to get her a gift, one that would represent how much she meant to me and I pondered through out the day of what that could be. As the sun set our town’s Christmas lights sprung to life, the light intruding through our store windows and that’s when the idea came to me. My eyes followed the shimmering hues to it’s source, most of it coming from our Christmas tree and as my eyes crawled upward they finally came to rest on top of the tree; the star that shined above. I was going to steal our own star from on top of the tree, it being a symbol of pure light as Kimberly’s smile was to me, I knew the gesture would be taken and our relationship restored to what it once was.
It was Christmas Eve, the festivities that were celebrated in our town square slowly died down as everyone retreated back to their homes and rental lodges, I stood in our candle shop waiting for silence to overwhelm our city streets. I told my parents I would lock up and do inventory that night, something they were surprised of me volunteering for. The ruse would be simple, I would wait for everyone to be gone and then I would climb that monstrosity and steal the star from up top. I waited for the clock to strike midnight, I exited our store, looking up at how tall I would have to climb and the sight almost caused me to change my mind but I knew I had no other choice I needed to do this for her. Before locking the door I remembered that horrid shadow that I had seen before and grabbed a few candles in hopes of illuminating my path underneath. I lit several of the candles and placed them at the base of the tree, I inhaled deeply strapping my back pack around me and looked up at all the branches, I then began to climb.
I slithered between branches while the occasional colossal ornament hit me, the bristles from the tree branches cutting my cheeks as I climbed higher. The smell of real pine invaded my nostrils, I surprisingly found it to be calming, better than any scent were could ever make in our cheap candles. Eventually I made it too the top, I dare not to look down knowing the height would scare me to the point I might lose my balance. I grabbed out to the star, it shining it’s glare directly to me. I pulled it off the tree and disconnected the power cable, to my astonishment the darn thing still illuminated, I then placed it in my bag hoping the light wouldn’t be so bright that some one could clearly tell I had it in my bag. Perched on top of the tree, I took a moment to enjoy the view, I looked over our small town, the streets covered in white snow it really did look like something out of a Ron Oliver film, the subtle breeze soothed my scratched face as it cautiously rocked me back and forth on the branch I was sitting on.
In that moment I processed the realization of how outlandish this endeavor was, I knew some silly gift would not change Kimberly’s mind or even worse she might think of me as some criminal. I shook my head disappointed in myself and pulled my pack in front of me ready to put the star back to it’s rightful place but before I could the tree began to move violently.
At first I thought it was an earth quake just from the sheer force, I grabbed on to the trunk of the tree tightly as I could feel my legs loosing it’s footing. I looked around trying to figure out what was happening and that’s when I heard it, the sound that has terrified me since I was a child, it was Santa’s laughter. I carefully peeked my head over trying to get a glimpse through the branches and sure enough there he was, at the base of the tree, he was shaking the trunk as he laughed uncontrollably, he then raised his gaze towards mine. I retreated my head back into the branches and contemplated what I could do, I couldn’t climb down, he was waiting for me down there, but the more I hesitated the more violently he shook the tree.
“I’ll put it back” I yelled out, but got no response, instead he had stopped.
The world returned to normal as the wind continued rattling the leaves, but then the shaking returned but this time in bursts, it would shake then stop only to shake again a few seconds later. The laughter also returned and that’s when I realized it was him climbing up the tree, I brushed away several of the branches getting clear view of his menacing frown, a look of pure evil garnished across his elderly face and the madness that display rage in his eyes shimmered in the moon light.
“Naughty boy” he said to me while show casing his horrifying grin.
He seemed to being climbing with ease, almost natural to his biology, I remained petrified still unsure of what I could do. He was closing the distance, I could almost smell his repulsive breath and the stench sprung my mind into action; I knew I had to climb down the tree on the opposite side. I jumped down several branches at time making sure to leap at angles, I knew if I was going to get out of this alive I needed to stay vigilant and not let my fear stop me, eventually we were at the same level but on opposite ends and his egregious hand reached out grabbing mine.
“Naughty boy” he once again screeched out.
He began belching his all too familiar chuckle as I shook and squirm trying to release his tight grip, I began to sob begging him to let go, that I was sorry for taking the star. By some miracle I was able to break free but at a heavy cost because I lost my balance and fell to the ground from 20ft above. I crashed through branches which gratefully slowed my fall, eventually hitting the floor with heavy thud. I gasped out with all of my breath as my lungs felt collapsed, my vision was blurry but I didn’t waste time and I got up and tried my best to run. I could see our store and I still had the keys I just needed to make it inside and lock myself in until day break. My hands reached into my pocket fumbling around for the key, I could hear that laughter flowing into my ears I knew he was in pursuit and quickly dived into our store once I had opened the door. I turned to lock it and saw the most devastating sight, the candles that I had left at the base of the tree I must of knocked them over, but, now the tree had caught on fire, the ambers overwhelming the pine needles and ornaments. It didn’t take long for the flames to reach to the sky and as I looked up through the window there he was, still belching out his horrid chuckle, he remained unmoved the flames tearing into his flesh as withered face began to melt.
“Naughty boy” He still murmured out.
I looked on with disbelief all too horrified to even call for the fire department, soon the amber glows engulfed the tree and it tilted over falling hard to the ground like some axe man cutting down a tree in the woods. It landed on one of our neighboring stores and soon it too was on fire, still shook I stood there watching our entire town square melt away like one of our candles and by some grace of god our store was the only one that was left untouched. Eventually the fire department showed up only to vanquish the few remaining flames, but virtually everything was a mere shadow of it’s former glory; all ash, all things return to dust.
The next morning as one could of guessed a town meeting was formed, out of towners and members of our community wept and mourned the loss of our town center, Christmas was ruined but worse our city never recovered, no one came back to our town, no use for a former Christmas wonderland and most business’s closed down; including our candle store. I waited for the police to contact me, for them to tell me they knew I was there, that they found the body, but to my befuddlement that phone call never happened. It was never reported that they found a body, or that it was because of our candles they blamed the wiring, they said that the star got unplugged and energized the tree. I still had the star stuffed away in my back pack and I kept it with me for years not wanting anyone to know that it was me. I don’t even know what happened to Kimberly other than the photos that she would post on her social media accounts, I am still enchanted by her smile.
I know what the foot steps are, I know who they are from and I use to think it was just my guilt, penance for my crimes, but, it wasn’t until I reached my thirties did I start to hear the laughter. The chuckle amplifying with each horrid step, it’s him, he knows I still have the star. It’s Christmas Eve and I honestly do not want to fall asleep, I think tonight is the night, I fear when I close my eyes and cautiously fall into the land of slumber that those abysmal words will slowly creep it’s way into my dreams, because he was right I was a ‘naughty boy’.