Posted by Scott Wilson

By Scott Wilson
Word Count: 266

“Shhh. I hear something,” Mandy said to her two daughters.

The six year old twins cowered behind Mandy in the large tent. Outside, the night was silent, apart from the screeching and howling that periodically shattered the silence, and their nerves.

“I want to go home, mommy,” one of the girls sobbed.

“Me too,” the other girl said.

“We will,” Mandy said. “Soon. We just have to wait for him, to pass. Then we can get to the car and drive home.”

“Why did he have to come early this year?” the girls said.

“I don’t know, girls. I don’t know.”

After twenty minutes lights began switching on in other tents at the campsite.

“Can we go now?” the girls said.

Mandy unzipped the tent and peeked outside. They had not heard any noise for awhile now, but she wanted to be sure he wasn’t tricking the campers. Amongst the carnage of torn and bloodied tents, Mandy was relieved to see that most of the campers seemed to have escaped his visit unharmed.

“Okay girls,” Mandy said. “Leave everything, we’ll just run to the car. We can come back during the day for everything. He never shows up in daylight.”

Mandy and her girls ran to the car and hoped in.

“Why did Santa turn so bad, mommy?” one of the girls said.

“Don’t say his name!” the other girl said.

Something heavy landed on the roof of the car.

“Ho, ho, haargghh!” he yelled.


This entry was posted on Tuesday, October 20, 2009 at 8:52 PM . You can follow any responses to this entry through the comments feed .


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