Oh, it's Christmas...

Santa does more than deliver presents.

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2. The Third House on the Left

[Quick Warning: Reference to drunkenness]

Molly had just put her youngest daughter to sleep when she heard a crashing in the living room. She moved quietly down the stairs, fearing the worst. As she had assumed her husband had just stumbled in from another late night "out with the guys" and his words were slurring as he attempted to speak.

Besides the drunkard man the living room was the perfect Christmas Card setting. The hearth lit the room with  pretty orange glow, the tree was adorned with ornaments and garland and her mothers antique angel tree topper, made of porcelain. The hand decorated stockings of her three beautiful girls hung by the fire place, already filled with goodies she had put there herself, and the tree was overflowing with things she hadn't been able to resist buying her girls, and a few boxes for her husband.

Angel, her husband, stepped further into the room, and caught sight of his wife who stood motionless on the stairs, a blank expression on her face.

She turned and went back up the stairs, ignoring her husbands protests, and then locked the door of their bedroom behind her. She feared the picturesque scene she had worked so hard on to keep the girls from realizing their father wasn't present would be ruined come morning, but it was better than being ruined herself by the drunken rage her husband was sure to enter long before he passed out.

 

Angel stumbled towards the stairs, then fell, and decided to stay where he was, rather than exert the energy to move himself to the bedroom. He had been drinking a lot since he lost his job, he still hadn't told Molly. After Christmas. He told himself as he passed out, after Christmas.

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