Santa does exist

It was Christmas eve, Emily had waited for this night for twenty-five days. Since she turned 10 she had decided to prove that Santa Claus didn’t exist, and that was mom and dad who placed all the present under née the Christmas tree. Her mom once told her that if a child meat Santa at his way from house to house, he will be very mad. But Emily was sure that she only said this to prevent her from trying to get up and see that it really was not Santa who placed the presents under the tree, but themselves. Now she wanted to prove that she was right. That was going to happen tonight. Her mom and dad had gone to bed, and now she was lying there, waiting. It was eleven and Emily started to get tired, her eyes were slowly closing. She felt asleep.

She heard footsteps on the roof. She was awake! She walked on tiptoes in her white slippers, down the stairs. “Bumm” and out the chimney, he came. She ran quicly and hided behind the coach, at sat all still. Santa brushed off the dirt. Now she had the change, she went up, she went directly ahead him - to pull off his beard. He took her hand before she even reached him. He looked her in the eyes, with the coldest eyes she had ever seen. “Santa!” she yelled. He opened his bag, where she thought the presents were. But they weren’t “Ho, ho, ho” santa said. In the bag, there laid a hundreds of small children’s chopped off heads, and then she knew she was about to be the next. 

Creative Writing

“Mom please – wake up”

”Mom please, mom, come on wake up!” but I knew that she would never wake up again. As I remembered how I stood outside the hospital - remembering her crying, a poor girl at seven years old. Her mother was my patient. The last two weeks her cancer had become better. I promised her daughter that she could come home, that I would cure her, so that she this Christmas night could come home and they could celebrate it together. I’m a doctor at the ”eastside hospital” in the poorest part of London. I’m thirty-two years old, I moved here from Italy, when I was twelve. Tonight it’s Christmas eve, my mom and dad died when I was fourteen - so this night means absolute nothing to me! I have no family to visit - so I decided to work tonight, so that the other doctors with families to celebrate this eve with – could get off early. It’s odd, now after leaving I felt bad, an empty feeling. I have been leaving the young poor girl alone sitting in the hospital crying and waiting for someone to take care of her. I was alone all the Christmas nights after my mom and dad leaved me, and since that I have learnt to be alone. She can learn that too. On the way home I went down to the nearest shop, all the way down there I told my self to go come. No one wanted to celebrate Christmas with me, not even to poor girl. I brought a back of candy, Christmas socks and a little raindeer toy. I had never brought a present to any one before. I had brought my first present, and wanted to give it the little girl. So I went back at work, upstairs to the children’s floor. There she was, all alone in the playroom - sleeping at a pink blanket. I opened the door, lay the presents next to her, she didn’t woke up. I looked at her. The blond hair was beautifully put in a plaiting with a red hair bow. She was dirty, and didn’t smell very well. My eyes started to sting. Tears came out, I sat down, hided my head in my hands. A lonely feeling. Suddenly I felt to little hands on mine. “Don’t cry, I’m not dead. I know you would come back. You are my Christmas present from Santa. Please take me home now, I’m so tried”. I will never forget that Christmas eve. Every year when she falls to sleep, I remembered that night. Remembered that Christmas is that time of year were you have to help others – and I’m happy I did!