Captain Swan Shots

I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus

It was a quiet winter night on the rural side of New York, and all that was heard was the sound of bells hanging outside many of the residents' homes. I patted Henry on the shoulder motioning him to bed, he was such a kid. Only eleven years old and he had much energy to spare. He kept calling out, "Santa! Santa! I wanna see Santa! Can I stay up please?!" I chuckled, "I'm sorry kid, but Santa won't come if your awake." He wailed and pouted, running up the stairs to bed.

He was so grown up at eleven, but he was such a child on Halloween and Christmas, especially Christmas. To be honest, I disliked Christmas with a burning passion. It wasn't always like this, I used to love Christmas. Even when in the system, the kids would actually acknowledge my presence, giving me gifts. It was once every 365 days that I felt loved. Now that I have a son, I'm loved everyday, but this day.

I wasn't always single, I had a boyfriend. He was kind, and very loving. Every Christmas, he'd dress up as Santa for Henry and give him the most mind blowing gifts no one could ever buy from regular stores. A real cutlass, but the ending tip encased with rubber of course. Another was a laptop, computer, and a TV to put up in the boy's room. The last gift he ever gave Henry made me cry. When Henry was only seven years old, he woke up with a new closet. He used to have a small one, but it was renewed into a walk-in closet with drawers full of nerf guns and brand new tablet. I wondered how he was able to build Henry a new closet in one night without waking anyone up, but he only gave me the same response.

I know all, Swan. I know what he loves, and what he hates. I know what puts him to rest, and what keeps him up at night. Let's just say...it's what I do.

I had the best boyfriend in the world, he'd do anything for Henry and I. Except, one Christmas he didn't give anything, he didn't even show up at our house. He said he had to take his friend's shift, so I didn't mind at first. The hours had past, and I found on the news while watching TV that there was a robbery at the restaurant from where he worked; The Jolly Roger. Three people were killed that day, just the staff.

One of the chefs, Rupert and a waiter, Smee. Lastly, the most heartbreaking one of all, the owner himself- my boyfriend. Henry and I cried that night, no gifts were exchanged, only the sorrow of who we lost.

I wiped the tears that now rushed down my cheeks, facing the fireplace that held one portrait of just the three of us, hugging one another on a Christmas night with him holding the camera of course. I smiled weakly, brushing my now clammy finger down the frame, and to him. I could just remember his touch, soft and ragged from his small amount of facial hair. I only cried harder, weeping out his name, "Killian...I miss you."

Henry had only known Killian from when he was five, and until his death at the age of seven. Three. Henry had only spent three Christmases with Killian, and it hurt now that he was eleven and doesn't even remember him. Now that I think about it, Henry had only seen Killian three times in person. Henry knew I was dating him, but he'd only see him once a year dressed as Santa. I've been with Killian for three years, and Henry had only seen him three times within those three years.

I sat by the fireplace on the couch, holding our portrait close to my heart. It was snowing outside, too thick to see by even two feet away. The fire by my feet were warm, as I was wrapped in a blanket, and as I leaned closer to its soft touch, I painfully remembered he had made this too. No matter what I hold, no matter what I do, it will always end with me remembering him. Soon enough...I drifted off to sleep, hugging the blanket close to my heart.

---

My eyes shot up, the sound of a loud crash was heard from down the hall as I woke up with a fright. I hid under the cover of the blanket as I continued to hear the sounds of continuous crashes, from both the main hall and the kitchen. I lifted the covers ever so slightly, as I saw in the dark a silhouette running across the corridor constantly, carrying a large bag that only grew smaller every time he exits a room. My eyes widened, I saw a dark silhouette. Why's the fire out? I quickly glanced to the fireplace, seeing the pit of fire hissing from water being poured atop of the flames. That bastard...no wonder it was so damn cold.