Sam looked over his shoulder. Stupid Marie. His eyes burned with the shame of being pushed down in the snow in front of the whole class. She was the same age he was, but she towered over almost everyone else, and she ran the classroom like her own private kingdom. The teachers were only nominally in charge, ignoring her bullying. Some of them harbored a secret fear of Marie themselves. The rest of the class chose various methods to deal with Marie- some of them were her vassals, grouping around her and encouraging her, shooting the kid laying on the ground or holding a bruised arm a sympathetic look as they scrurried after their overlord. Sam just tried to stay invisible, and it worked about 50 percent of the time.

Winter break was almost here, he'd almost gotten away from her oppressive presence for a full two weeks, but his mother had insisted he go on the caroling trip with the rest of the class. She tried to make it seem festive and fun, but Sam knew it was because it was her bridge night and none of the high schoolers were willing to babysit since it was the last day of school and they all wanted to go out and do whatever it was high schoolers did when they had the next day off from class.

He brushed at his snowsuit furiously. His cheeks tingled. The rest of the class was progressing down the block, moving from house to house. "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen." "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas." He looked around for the hat that had been snatched off his head- his grandma had knitted it for him in scratchy acrylic yarn in rainbow colors, and as much as he hated it, he knew his mother would kill him if he lost it. "Your Grandma worked so hard to make you that hat!"

Ahead of him, a house. Dark. No Christmas lights, not even a porch light. Long untended weeds poked through the crunchy snow in the yard. The door was ajar.

Sam looked down the street again at the class- they were half a block away, and he should probably catch up with them...

The door squeaked. Sam was standing at the gate, and just beyond, there was a narrow sidewalk leading to the door. It inched open a tiny bit more, almost imperceptably. His hat was laying in a discouraged heap in the middle of the stairs, just a foot or so from the house. Stupid Marie must have thrown it while he was face down in the snow.

Sam stared at the hat. He stared at the door. There didn't seem to be any movement behind the door, but it was ominously ajar.

He made a decision. This was his hat, after all, and he wasn't going to walk through the door tonight without it. He didn't deserve to get grounded or have to explain to his mom what had happened. She would march into the Principal's office and cause a scene and then what would Marie do to him?

He opened the gate and moved as silently as possible towards the house. His snowsuit made brushing sounds where his thighs moved together, and his shiny boots squealed. He bent over to retrieve the hat, inches away from the door, and all of the hair on the back of his neck stood straight up.

There was something in the dark. Something snuffling and...wet.

Damp wool smell from mittens and snow clumped on scarf, breathing shallowly, Sam edged away from the door slightly, afraid to look up.

In a tiny, weak voice, he began to sing.

"Siiiiiilent Niiiight....Hoooooly Niiiiight....Allllllll is calm, alllll is briiiiight...."

He stepped one foot in back of the other, singing - "Round yon Viiiiirgiiin, Mother and Child..."
One more step, "Hooooly Infant, so teennnnder and Mild", one more step, "Slleeeeep in Heeeaaaavenlllleeee Peeeeee" -breath- "Eeeace....Sleeeep in heeavenly peeeace."

He raised his head. He was at the gate. The door slammed shut.

He ran until his lungs were about to burst and he caught up with the class at Mrs. Allen's Christmas-lit door. "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer." Sam was never so happy to see Marie again in all his life.


For the Scriptic.org prompt exchange this week, SAM at http://frommywriteside.wordpress.com gave me this prompt: It was a calm and peaceful night. Snow fell from the sky and carolers made joyful noise as they moved from house to house. It was like a picture on a Christmas card, only the inside message held a sinister surprise...

I gave Diane Trujillo at http://theschmorgasboard.comthis prompt: "How about an image for a writing prompt? :)http://bit.ly/WbDbGm