Only Good Girls Get Candy Canes

Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow!

The path ended at the bottom of your hilly street. Your heart raced, as did the Vertigo swirling in your temples. Slowly, you made your way up the hill with help from Millie's childish words of encouragement. The driveway was right in front of you with both of the cars parked outside. It must be a Sunday afternoon since your whole home seemed to be present. You nearly threw up because of the pressure in your head and on your heart.

"Millie, help me up the stairs please." You weakly gripped the railing to you left, then wrapped your other arm around her. The ascent was slow, but precautionary. This was it. The door taunted you to knock on it, just once very quick. Your hands could not make fists, so you pounded on the door three time with an open palm, very slowly, very eerily. Millie was sweating for your life and for hers. You heard footsteps close in by the door. You weren't ready. You never were going to be ready for this moment. The door pulled back and your mom was standing on the other side. This was all too much for you to handle right now.

"Don't hurt her." You mumbled drowsily. Was it intended for Millie to not make a meal of your mom? Or was it intended for your mom not to treat Charlie's daughter like a prisoner? Nobody would ever know because you fell face-first into the entry way and blacked-out on top of your mom's feet.

You came to at 6 o'clock. You only knew the time because of the clock that sat on your nightstand. Nobody changed anything about your room. Your shirts still littered the floor, and your calendar hasn't been crossed off since the early days of June. The only thing that changed was the collection of dust on everything. This was unreal. You moved to get out of bed, picking up a picture frame that stood neglected near your clock. How you took family photos for granted since you had left, you thought. There wasn't a single noise in all of the house, which prompted you to slink out of bed as fast as you could without falling over or throwing up. The stairs posed as a difficult obstacle to conquer alone. One by one, slow and hobbled, you descended the stairs. These were the same stairs that took you to Charlie only over a week ago. How fast and unusual your life was moving now. How colorful and horrifying too, was life.

You started to garble thoughts aloud to yourself. Thumping, pounding, pulsing, the noise of blood pumping through your body made you queasy. But down at the end of the quaint hallway you could see the dinning room table with Millie sitting in a chair talking to someone. You hesitated your entry into the living room and kitchen area, knowing that your family would be there and demanding an explanation. Before you made your entrance, you took a deep breath and calmed your disillusionment.

"You're okay!" Millie was the first to recognize you, and the sweet girl nearly knocked you off your feet with an abrasive hug. You smiled, knowing that out of all of this, there was one person's respect you could always cherish. She smelt of gingerbread the same as Christmasland did. Quickly you buried that thought beneath you.

"I understand you are not well, but you have some explaining to do." Your father made his existence known by slamming a cup onto the counter in the kitchen.

"I know, I know, I made a mistake and I am sorry." Tears uncontrollably came to your eyes for no particular reason. Your mom and dad looked at you, awaiting an explanation to escape your quaking lips.

"I went to the police station as soon as I left home, but the man didn't believe me when I tried to tell him I was being followed by Charlie Manx. He told me he had been dead and I was being stupid about it. But I know what I saw. This," you squeezed Millie's shoulders, "is his daughter. She can tell you that he is alive and has all of the children I went looking for." You smiled in idiocy at how stupid you sounded. The tears refused to drop from your eyes as you  secured Millie in your arms. As for your parents, they shook their heads and chuckled at you as if you were a lunatic.

"It's over. I'm home now. But whatever you do, don't lock me up in a mental institution. I'm fine. Right Millie? Tell them it's all real?" You were thankful that your brother was not in the room as this interrogation continued to bring up dark topics of discussion. Your dad began to speak after minutes of staring at one another.

"We believe you, we really do. But who else will aside from this bloodsucking brat?" He paced the length of the corner like a hungry tiger. Never before have you seen your dad this mangy and hostile.

"We paid off the police to call you a liar. It was all part of the plan." He shifted his eyes momentarily to your mom, who nodded for him to continue. Your ears rung with static again, but you overcame it with a sudden fear brought on by your parents.

"We never were the best parents, we will admit. Not to your brother, or any of the others. But you, you were an exceptional child with a gifted mind. We never wanted to hurt you. We spared you and only you. Your brother spoiled too soon. He was weak though, he wasn't meant to last." Your dad spoke to the ground. What was he talking about? The others? Your brother?

"Where's my brother?" You retracted your lips as your heart made your words sound fragmented. Your entire body went numb, but it felt so alive again.

"He's with the others. Somewhere in the woods, a solid ten feet under." Was he fooling you? Was it all gibberish you did not understand? Your dad read your twisted face.

"Can you not see? They are dead! All of the children! Damn it! Damn you especially!" He snapped like you never saw before. The veins popped from his neck in straining lines underneath his purple face. It scared you but you did not cower.

"I need to go to the tree." Millie whispered to you discreetly.

"What did the little brat say? Tell me, what did you say!" Your dad was screaming at Millie who stood frozen in time, sick to her stomach.

"Leave her alone! You killed him didn't you?" You pushed Millie behind you as you tried to think where your skates could have went. They had to be somewhere around here because you felt the tickle of the ringing in your ears.

"Him and every other spawn of mine! You just got lucky because you're so damn gifted that we couldn't bring ourselves to kill you. We just couldn't. Thank your precious brains before we blow them out." He uncaged himself from behind the kitchen counter and was coming your way. You took Millie's sword from her side and pointed it towards your father.

"Millie you need to leave now. Go and get yourself help. You're going to die." The farther you inched back, the farther you stood away from the door. She had to leave now.

"I can't leave you." She cried from behind you.

"As your mother you must do as I say. Go!" And with crushing guilt and panic, she took off out the front door to go get help. You trusted she knew what she was doing, and in time you may see her again.

"Why did you have the police lie? How come you haven't been caught as a murderer yet?" You sniffled with an ugly face.

"Money talks, right? The sickest men in all of the state will do anything for money. Even pardon you from life in prison and throw in a new identity for you and the wife." From behind him he pulled a gun on you and pointed it at your head.

"Did you want Charlie to come for me?" As best as you could, you held the sword mightily in the air without so much as a little shake from nerves. This sword was too small for you, but it would have to manage for now.

"Not entirely. We were never in contact with Manx or any of his henchmen when he had them, but we just wanted to watch you feel helpless. It was by some miracle that Charlie had convinced you to go with him. Never in a million years did we think Charlie would come for you. You lucky son of a bitch." In his uproar of hate, he shot you thoroughly in the shoulder. You grimaced in agony before dropping the sword. But you couldn't die because they didn't know. They didn't know that in order for you to die, your Knife had to be destroyed. Where were your skates? You crawled backwards on the floor, cradling your shoulder as gentle as you could.

"And as for your friend Nikki, she was in on it too. She was jealous you know, all of your friends were. The original plot was for her to kill you. Remember that day you were going to go to the mall with her? That was supposed to be the day that you died." The world around you was falling apart so fast that you were suffocating under the pressure. Under the coffee table next to you, you could see your skates tucked away. You smiled in relief.