How Did You Like Your Present?

A bed, a desk and a chair. That was all the furniture in the little boy's room. With the dim yellow light that shone from the ceiling down, a little boy could be seen sitting on his chair, awkwardly grasping a pencil to write a sweet short letter with his endearingly messy handwriting.

As he wrote, he shivered as a freezing draft swept by the room. His clothing barely kept him warm and the walls were full of small holes that there mightn't be a difference as to whether or not there were walls. The sounds of a bottle being thrown to the wall could be heard, and the sounds of weeping were deafening. And thought the little boy winced at the sound of his mother throwing the glass bottle at the paper thin wall, he never stopped his slow moving hands that crafted the letter ever so carefully.

Dear Satan

I want my momy to be hapy this Cristmas. I want to see her smile, please. I dont want her to cry anymore. Please mak her hapy.

When he finished struggling to write the letter, he folded the paper into three panels, like the papers that were sent to his mother. They were always folded in three, but while those letters were symmetrical, his was on the opposite side of the spectrum.

'Santa won't mind, right?' the little boy thought in his head as he stared at the unevenly folded paper. Another crash resounded throughout the thin walls of the house.

'How will I send the letters to Santa?' the little boy wondered to himself, ignoring the crash of another broken bottle.

He looked out the frosted window and into the bitter snow. 'The North Pole has snow, does it not? If so then isn't any place with snow connected to the North Pole?' The little boy thought naively in his head.

He rushed out of his room, the smell of alcohol and puke confronted him, but it was all right, he was used to this. Besides, when Christmas comes, his mother will be happy again. He remembered that his mother once told him that Santa made every wish come true and he dearly believed in that. He had to believe in it, it was really his last hope.

And so he went out into the freezing snow, his teeth immediately chattering and his whole body trembling. There, he let go of his letter and watch it fly away, one night on a December.

In the morning of Christmas, just as the sun rose up to the sky, the little boy excitedly woke up and rushed to his mother's bedroom. He was really excited, excited to see the long lost smile of his mother. The smile that he himself has long forgotten.

Entering the room with a burst of excitement, he rushed up to his sleeping mother's bed and saw a smile on her face that made him joyful as well.

"Merry Christmas mommy!" the little boy shouted, but the mother didn't stir.

"Mommy?" the little boy asked, a question mark in his voice. He reached out to shake his mother awake, except she still didn't wake up. He grabbed a hold of her hand, only to find that it was as cold as the winter snow.

Besides the table was a cold cup of water and a bottle of pills. Beneath it was a letter written in red ink, like that of blood.

'How did you like your present?' was all that was written on the letter.