He Sees You

To wrap up our Christmas special, enjoy this twisted take on the classic Christmas carol, “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” from Chesca Lynn.

12:20 am 12/24/2012

The morning flew by without much activity. Jasper claimed he wanted to get as much rest as possible before tonight, joking about too much to do and not enough time. 

Oh how I wish we had more time.

My darling wife, Eloise, spent most of the night and early hours of the morning pacing and checking that everything was in place. The stockings have been hung by the chimney, the hall has been decked with boughs of holly, and even the mistletoe- hung where we can see, an important adjustment from last year- ready and waiting. 

I had to practically force her to take a few hours of rest, exhaustion weighing under her eyes so heavily that they made it difficult for me to recognize the woman I married. I’m sure I looked no better after my many hours in the snow the night prior, hanging light after light in intricate patterns on the roof and walls of our home. 

The Jeffersons had given us their stock after last year. After Westley…well, it was kind of them. Now we were the brightest house on the lot, which was saying a lot considering the Smiths and the Rodgers had gone all out with decoys and spotlights to try and distract from the treasures within.

After all, Harvey Rodgers was just turned seven, and was a very sweet and mannerly boy. 

What a shame.

2:43 pm

We ate lunch in silence, despite Jasper’s attempts at a merry mood. I’m not sure he fully understands what’s happening. We’ll give him a few more hours before we go over the plan again. Now he’s playing in the snow outside, making a snowman with a happy smile.

I can see Mr. Smith glaring at him from across the street. They’ll already have Alice tucked away, I assume. No matter, it doesn’t need to be quiet during the day, only silent at night. I wasn’t sure where the rumor ‘keeping the children asleep all day might help’ began, but I didn’t believe it. 

He knows either way. Sleeping or awake, it doesn’t change the choices they’d made. It didn’t change…the outcome. Not this late in the year.

I’m not sure how much longer Eloise can go without bringing him back inside. I’ll call him soon.

Oh, my gentle Jasper. Whatever shall we do?

4:18 pm

It’s started to snow. The sun is dipping lower and lower. Time is moving so fast now.

Eloise sat Jasper down and we talked through the plan. He said he understood how important it was, but I know a child has no way of comprehending how serious this situation is. After all, it’s almost Christmas. The worst time of the year.

We’re going to start locking down the house now. Not that it’ll help. Nothing can stop him once he’s written his list. Nothing.

7:56 pm

We’ve checked the decorations, bolted the doors, welded the windows, and hung extra holly and mistletoe. I’ve started placing gifts under the tree. Eloise started baking the cookies a few minutes ago. 

Jasper is preparing the bunker in his bedroom closet. The Smith’s might be idiots, but they got the smart idea of hiding in plain sight from some radical radio station down south. I hope it’s the right move.

I still need to fill the stockings. I hope it’ll be enough.

10:22 pm

The screams have begun. They’re still far away, but it means he’s started the rounds early this year. 

Eloise had a breakdown once everything had been settled. She grabbed Jasper by the shoulders and asked him why. Why did he have to be such a good child? Why couldn’t he have cursed and lied and stolen like the rest of the children in our neighborhood? Those homes don’t need the decorations, or the presents, or the prayers. They birthed normal, horrible children, whose only concerns are how much coal he’ll leave behind if he stops in for an unwanted visit.

Jasper apologized, but he didn’t need to. He shouldn’t have. It’s that behavior that got us in trouble in the first place. He repeated the rules to me before I sent him up to his closet. 

Stay put, keep his headphones on over his earplugs, and no matter what, do not pout or cry. He can smell the tears.

Jasper is upstairs now. It won’t be long.

11:21 pm

He’s here.

1:20 am 12/25/2012

He came through the back window. The mistletoe and holly only slowed his progress as he made his way to the living room. He carried that horrible red sack with him. I could hear muffled cries from within as his prey struggled to free themselves from their fate.

Good, sweet, lovely children. I used to blame their parents, how could someone let their children grow up that way? But I understand now. Some children are just born inherently good. Nature prevails over nurture. 

The horrible thing barely sniffed the cookies or glanced at the presents we’d laid out to entice him. He was here for one thing and one thing only, to complete his list. Only the children at the very top of the Nice list could be worth this much trouble.

He made his way up the stairs, and pulled out his long string of bells. Their ringing, their horrible, horrible ringing…it draws me to them even now, the enthralling music. He began to chant, and even through my earplugs I could hear his horrible song.

You Better Watch Out

You Better Not Cry

He’d barely made it halfway down the hall before I heard Jasper’s closet begin to creak open. Nothing was strong enough to stop the music, and nothing could stop a child from following the call.

You Better Not Pout

I’m Telling You Why

He didn’t have to enter Jasper’s room. My sweet son opened the door for him, and asked with his chirping voice, “Would you like to come in?”. He is…was…such a good boy. So hospitable. I blame myself for that.

The creature’s lips curled into a jovial smile, and his rosy cheeks only grew redder. 

Santa Clause Is Coming

To Town

We didn’t even hear them leave. It’s been quiet for too long. He’ll be back at the North Pole by now with his prey. Only the best children get to meet Santa. Only the top of the Nice List get to join him in his world of sweets and joy.

But they don’t stay children forever. And they never come back home.

Merry Christmas.