Christmas Elf

Part 1

"Chris, wake up, you have to go to work. I swear one day you will get fired and when it comes, I will kick you out." my mother banged heavily on my door. The old wood creaked and groaned, not wanting to be awoken before dawn. I saw the powdered snow calming fall outside of my window, illuminated by the candle lights. The hollars and commands of the ice cutters called out from just beyond the town at the lake.

"Coming mother, just one minute I need to get ready." I placed my boots on and layered my clothes to remove any remnant of heat from my body. I changed my calendar and marched off the date, December 25th, my birthday.

I raced out of the room to eat breakfast, just to see nothing was there. They left without me already and I had much to do. The snow outside grew, as I shoveled and worked towards clearing a path for my family when they came back. I could see the children running around at dawn's light as I fed my reindeer.

Once I was finished I raced the light to the factory. I stumbled through the towns halls and corridors till I reached the stone configuration. The quad outside of the building was barren, I could tell I had run late.

"Chirstopher Kringle! My office now!" the looming man called as I entered the factory. My co-workers mumbled and shook their heads. I was never punctual with my timing. I worked best at night, when no one was awake to watch me, to see me create. This always made me sleep in and never show my full potential. Even when working at a toy factory I never was happy. I loved to make toys, and adored giving freshly made trinkets to my daughter to see her face light up, but at the factory, I had none of that to keep me going.

"Yes Mr.Snow?" I noticed entering the stuffy office. Heavy lit candles hung the heat in the room, the humidity forming sweat marks on his forehead. Mr.Snow was an old stout man, his skin pulled and withered with age. His form strained on his close as he resembled an old staggerg.

"That's the final strike I will give you boy, you are late, your work is unimpressive. Think of your daughter. And if I were you I would leave this town and never return. Best she had parents who actually cared about her. Maybe get lost in the woods will you." he spat. His words were ones of common gratitude towards me. My daughter was born of a one night stand, a bastard child. She had her mothers pitch blake hair, but my pale skin, a mix of a stranger and I. Everyone hates that I was her father, a lazy slump who lived under his parents' neglectful roof, unable to make ends meet.

"Am i fired?" I glumly requested.

"Fire, and I hope you never see your face in my town again, you hear?" he shoved me out of his door.