It is said that in death all things become clear and all mysteries which has been eluding your understanding during your lifetime becomes suddenly revealed.
One old geezer somewhere knew this statement to be so true as he clutched his chest in terror when the supposed ghosts of his past finally came back to haunt him. Trembling in fear, he sat up and pointed at the apparition or manifestation or whatever the hell it was and in a quavering voice asked it a question. But whatever reply he was given must have pleasingly astounded him because his eyes almost popped out of its sockets in shock before he let loose a croaky laugh as the memory of their first encounter on this same day over seventy years ago came spiraling down at him like a Tsunami wave.
It was the chilly eve of Christmas in the year of the Great depression and the whole town was in a festive mood despite the horrible economic condition in the country. Almost everyone temporarily cast away their problems to enjoy the holiday period except for one little eight year old boy that was on a mission. He was furious with Santa Claus, in fact
been furious with him throughout the year because last Christmas he asked for a car as his gift. He wanted a real shiny four sitter car so that poppa could drive momma, him and his kid brother to school like some of them other kid’s parents did, but Santa Claus being a dummy that he was, got him a toy shiny four sitter car instead, can you imagine? It made him so furious and sad simultaneously because he really wanted the car and his poppa says he couldn’t afford one even if he saved all his earnings for sixteen straight years. So this Christmas he specifically wrote down on a sheet of paper that he wanted a real car and placed it under the christmas tree by the fireplace like he had done since he was three, then being a very determined boy and considering that the car would be needed more than ever now that his kid brother was always sick, he decided that he would stay up to confront Santa as he crawled down the chimney to make sure he met with his demands.
If only he knew then what he knew now, he would have saved himself the terror and agony he lived through the subsequent years of his life, if he only he knew then that Santa didn’t exist and that all the gifts he received since he was three were from his poppa and momma, he wouldn’t have had to live the next seventy something Christmas’s of his life in horror and trepidation.
With a foolproof plan in place, this little eight year old boy with all the goodness and love in his heart slipped out of bed when he felt sure his parents were asleep, went over to feel his brother’s temperature and found out that his brother’s fever had finally broken, before he crept down the stairs to his rendezvous with Santa. In the sitting room he picked the sofa directly facing the chimney and sat down to wait for Santa till the unavoidable forces of nature forced him into a slumber.
For how long he had been asleep on the sofa, he had no idea but a cold gust of wind and a scraping sound coming down from the chimney suddenly woke him up. A little eager, tensed, expectant and scared, he stared in awe at the fireplace until Santa climbed down, slowly dusted snow off his clothes, before turning around.
The first thing the little boy noticed even in the darkness were Santa’s teeth, sorry not teeth but fangs and his golden eyes before he realized that the room was freezing cold as if death had just walked in. Time stood still and the little boy’s heart stopped for three seconds, all it took were three seconds and when it began to beat again that thin line between sanity and madness had almost been crossed. Santa was as real as daylight and he was a gruesome monster out of a borderline nightmare was what kept ringing in his little head repeatedly as Santa sauntered passed him without an iota of regard and headed for their rickety staircase because Santa too was here on a mission.
A lot of nightmarish thoughts ran through this little boy’s mind while he sat alone in the sitting room terrified out of his mind, should he run for his parent’s room? Should he scream for his parents? Or wouldn’t screaming bring the wrath of Santa on him? All these thoughts whirled in his mind until he remembered that his little brother was up there alone and defenseless but before he could move, if he could have even moved at all, Santa was back and he wasn’t alone. The little boy remained frozen on the sofa watching Santa walking towards the chimney with his little brother in tow and when they both finally turned his brother sadly waved goodbye to him while Santa gave him an evil grin and a wink, which the little boy interpreted as “If you ever breathe a word of what you have seen to anyone, you will be next” before they both walked into the fire place and up the chimney never to be seen again.
Fear is a great intoxicant and it held the little boy frozen long after Santa and his brother had gone, long after poppa had crept down to place the gifts under the pretext of it being from Santa and long after the cock crowed introducing dawn. When morning finally came his parents came down to meet him in the sitting room transfixed to the sofa and staring into space.
It was a mournful and tearful Christmas for his family as they lost a son to an illness and were invariably losing the other to sinister circumstances. That singular experience left the little boy in a dark shadow of his former self for several years, he was always jumping at shadows, screamed if you crept on him, took to his heels if there was a sudden sharp sound like the slamming of a door, afraid to sleep alone, afraid to sleep without the lights on and worse of all was that December became a terrible month for him because he was always sick and terrified and It got worse as 25th draws nearer. Eventually he managed to get a little semblance of his sanity back but he never could feel happiness again in the month of December without having spasms and shivers.
Seventy something years later and now lying on his deathbed, Santa was back again with a question, “Are you ready now”? The old geezer answered yes, and then stretched out his hand to be led on.
He left the world smiling at his childish stupidity and assumptions, he also laughed at the fact that “Death” had a morbid sense of humor for it to dress in a Santa Claus costume all in the name of keeping the spirit of Christmas alive as he went about his horrid business of soul reaping. All this years he thought Santa had killed his brother but it was only death going about his business that faithful Christmas night years ago.
My Dark School Of Thoughts 
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