What I Want For Christmas

On a quiet, dirt road sits a solitary home. The winter snow blankets the roof and window panes. Along the gutters, colored lights are strung and a festive wreath is hung on the front door. It is that magical time of year again. Inside, a young boy lies in bed on Christmas Eve morning. The sounds and smells of the holiday surrounding him. Before he even opens his eyes he can smell chocolate chip cookies and his mom’s famous potato soup cooking on the stove. “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” can softly be heard playing on the radio downstairs. A big smile crosses his face. He is as happy as a child can be. Tomorrow is the big day. Tomorrow is when dreams come true.

He hops out of bed in his Batman pajamas and runs downstairs to see the warm, crackling fire in the living room fireplace. He can smell the cedar logs burning. The christmas tree is decorated with all the ornaments he had intricately placed a few days ago. All the presents can be seen under the tree. The bright red and green wrapping paper almost sparkles from the light of the fire. He cannot wait to tear into them tomorrow. Sitting high atop the tree, the star brightly twinkles. Everything is in perfect order.

The young boy follows the smell of the carrots and potatoes cooking into the kitchen. The sound from the radio growing as he approached the counter. Feeling the warmth of the oven he had to take a peek at the cookies baking inside. He wasn't supposed to open the oven on his own but figured he could get away with it today. The heat flew out of the oven onto his face, he had to back away briefly. The entire kitchen now smelled like brown sugar and vanilla. He could almost taste the cookies now.

After closing the oven and telling the baked sweets that he'd be back for them later, the boy starts to wonder where his parents are. It’s not like his mom to leave the stove unattended like that. He looks at the vintage kitty clock his mom had had since she was a little girl, its eyes and tail swinging back and forth. He had always found the clock to be a little creepy but never payed it much attention. “It’s close to 10 am. where could they be?” He thought before grabbing his coat to check outside.

He thought his dad must be out gathering wood for the fireplace and mom decided to help him. He felt kind of bad for sleeping in and not being there to help out. He got his coat and boots on and headed outside. The snow was almost up to his knees. He could feel his pajama pants starting to get wet. The cold wind blowing on them felt as if his knees were frozen. He circled around the house and didn’t find his dad out back. He didn't even see footprints in the snow. The wind began to blow even harder now, every snowflake hitting his cheek felt like a tiny needle.

He got back inside and threw his coat and boots down at the door. He didn't think to put them away, he just wanted to get next to that fireplace and warm up. His pants dripped across the floor as he headed for the living room. The boy had hoped to find his parents sitting in the living room waiting to warm him up. When he didn't see any sign of them he grew more worried.

The young boy called throughout his house for his parents. He rushed from one room to the next trying to find them. It wasn't until he was back in the kitchen that he noticed a tear in the right knee of his pajama pants. He thought he had snagged it outside on something. He knew his mom could sew it back up for him. He just needed to find her. He ran upstairs towards their bedroom hoping they were there. While searching the room, he could smell something burning downstairs.

He rushed towards the kitchen to find smoke coming from the oven. The cookies were burning. He tore open the oven and black smoke filled the room. The smoke alarm started blaring. He hurriedly put on the oven mitts he found on the table and pulled the baking sheet out. The delicious sweets he had been craving were now dark and burnt. The smell of vanilla was masked by the burnt lumps on the baking sheet.

Just then, the pot on the stove began to boil over. The flames under it burned higher than they had before. He tried to reach for the dial on the stove to turn off the heat. The soup spilled over the sides of the pot and some fell onto his hand. He could feel the searing pain as it burned his flesh. He tried to hold back the tears as he ran some cold water from the sink onto the wound. He cried out again for his parents. There was no answer.

As he was drying his throbbing hand with a dish rag, he noticed his pajamas were darker and faded. Batman’s face looked darker, as if he was just a shadow now. The black smoke must have dirtied his clothes when he tried to save the cookies. The alarm still rang in the air. The boy climbed onto the sink and opened the window, trying to get some of the smoke out. He fanned the dish rag hoping to get the ringing to stop. After a few minutes of fanning the smoke, the alarm was quiet. He climbed down from the counter and rested on the floor.

He looked at the kitty clock on the wall to see how much time had gone by and saw that it had stopped moving. The eyes of the cat were staring off to the side. Its tail stayed motionless. The clock face on its stomach was now cracked and the hands stayed in place. The boy followed the kitty’s stare towards the living room. He used his unburnt hand to help himself off the floor. When he got up, he saw that the palm of his hand was covered in a fine layer of black soot. He looked around the kitchen floor and saw that it too was dusty, except for his scrambled footprints mapping his panic to keep the house from catching fire.

As the boy walked towards the living room, the radio’s music crackled and faded. He entered the room to find the roaring fire was now a pile of ash. The windows were dirty and yellow. He looked towards the tree to see it what still bright and green. All of the ornaments looked perfect sitting in their respected places. However, there was one that seemed to hang crooked. This ornament was one he had made just a few years ago. He was in kindergarten at the time and was supposed to use a picture of his family and decorate it. His parents were sitting on the living room couch, he was in-between them. He had crudely pasted paper candy canes and trees around the frame. It wasn't much but he loved it.

The boy reached for the ornament to adjust it. Just as he was about to touch it, the hook it was hanging from gave way. The picture came crashing down. The glass shattering as it hit the floor. He bent over to pull the picture from its frame. He could see how happy his family was. He just wanted to go back to that day. He was startled from his fantasy when another ornament hit the ground.

He looked up to see the tree was dying in front of him. The bright green, pine needles slowly faded to a disgusting brown. The limbs were drooping from the weight of the decorations. The boy watched in horror as the ornaments fell one by one. Each one destroyed as they hit the hardwood floor. He looked to the top of the tree to see the star atop the tree. It still shone bright as it burst into flames. The boy stumbled back and fell to the ground at the sight. The dead tree was next. It caught fire and heat radiated from its branches. The boy closed his eyes in terror. His tears seemed to burn as they streamed down his face.

He opened his eyes to the sound of other children talking around the room. He rolled over in his bed. On the nightstand next to him was a bible with the name St. Francis’ Orphanage taped to it and the picture of his family sitting on the couch together. The pictures edges were burned.