“Silent night… holy night… all is calm, all is bright…” she whispered to her baby as she cradled her newborn daughter in her arms, tucked in a warm, pink fleece blanket. “Round yon virgin mother and child… holy infant so tender and mild…”

He watched her from the dark corner of the house, the flashing colored bulbs that were strung on the Christmas tree revealing his image and dark eyes. He continued to stare at his mom, who was rocking his new baby sister back and forth… back and forth… back and forth.

“Sleep in heavenly peace…” she continued to sing, taking a pause to see if her daughter had fallen asleep.

“Mom…” Billy said, coming out from the shadows of the dark corner. “Can you help me write my letter to Santa now?”

“Shh…” she signaled to her 5-year old son, glancing down at her new “pride and joy” again. “Sleep in heavenly peace…” she ended the song in a whisper, gently placing her in her crib and giving a tender kiss on her forehead.

Billy continued to glare at his mother who was showing his new baby sister all the attention. He broke out of his trance when he heard his father clumsily enter the room, a bottle wrapped in a brown bag in hand. He stumbled over to the end table that was near the Christmas tree and reached out to a plate of cookies that were placed there. Billy now stared at his father as he watched him pick up a cookie that he left strictly for Santa and ate it, taking another swig of his alcohol right after.

“You still haven’t told this fucking kid that Santa doesn’t exist?” he slurred out to his wife, who was still tending to her sleeping daughter, but she paid no attention to him.

He continued to stare at her and just released a chuckle, placing the bottle to his lips and taking another big gulp. He hissed as he felt the bitter alcohol slip down his throat, burning the whole way down. “Hey Billy!” he called out.

Billy looked over to his father who had now grabbed the glass of milk and had downed it all in one breath. He looked down at his son, not even bothering to wipe away the white mustache he had now, “The next time I find you wasting our food for some fat ass that doesn’t exist, I’ll kick your ass, you hear me?”

Billy didn’t reply, he just glowered at his drunken father. He simply smirked in return as he slammed the now empty glass down on the table. He grabbed the plate of cookies and began walking away, “Same goes for the milk.” he said just before he disappeared back into his room.

Billy’s eyes shifted over to his mother, who had been watching her drunk husband the whole time. As soon as he walked into their room, she followed, closing the door behind him. Everything was silent for a moment, Billy being able to hear the hush voices of his parents talking through the closed door, but all of a sudden their talking escalated into yelling, both of them fighting to get their point across.

“You’re nothing but a fucking drunk!” he heard his mother yell just as she ripped the door open and walked out. Right as she closed the door, they heard a loud bang and then glass shattering. She closed her eyes as tears forced it’s way out and slipped down her cheeks. She stayed like that for a moment until she finally decided to open her eyes and seen her little son through her blurred vision.

“C’mon sweetie…” she whispered with a smile, trying to blink back her tears. “Lets go work on that letter to Santa, okay?”

Billy remained silent and still, just staring at his mother. She sighed and made her way over to him, figuring that he heard everything that went on and was scared. “Hey.” she said as she knelt down in front of him, taking his hands into hers. “Daddy and I was just talking, okay? You know Daddy didn’t mean what he said, he’s just…” she fell silent, trying to find a way to explain to him that his father was drunk, “not feeling well right now, and he’s a bit agitated. Lets go into the kitchen and write that letter to Santa, we’ll also go get more cookies and milk for him, okay honey?”

Billy didn’t show no reaction, he just remained silent and continued to stare at her. Finally after what seemed like eternity, he slowly nodded his head. She smile and rose, “Okay, c’mon sweetie.” she said as she began walking into the kitchen. He trailed slowly behind, looking around the kitchen as if it was foreign to him.

“I’ll be right back, I’m gonna go get you a paper and pen.” his mother said as she walked off.

Billy continued scanning the kitchen, looking everything over. He journeyed over to the sink where he found the pack of Oreo cookies he opened to leave out for Santa. He grabbed a stool and had pushed over towards the sink. As he reached to grab the pack of cookies, something glimmering in the sink caught his eye. He looked down and found a large knife in the sink, waiting to be washed. Slowly he reached in and grabbed the dirty knife, watching as the suds of soap trickled down, revealing the shiny metal beneath.

He jumped off the stool and made his way back to the dining table with the pack of cookies just as his mother walked back into the kitchen, paper and pen in hand. She looked down at the pack of cookies her son had just placed on the table, “Oh, you grabbed more cookies for Santa?” she asked him with a smile as she placed the paper and pen down in front of him.

Billy kept his eyes on her, but then his eyes slowly glanced down at the paper and pen that was now in front of him. His mother’s brow knitted in confusion as she noticed this distant look in her son’s eyes. “Are you coming down with something sweetie?” she asked as she placed a hand upon his forehead, feeling no warmth. “You look a little sick.” she bent down a little to get eye leveled with him. “You know, my mom used to give me hot chocolate during this season whenever I was sick, it always made me feel better so that just might do the trick.” she said as she walked away from him, going over to the pantry to look for the box of hot chocolate.

Billy looked over towards where his mom walked off, noticing that she was now busy looking for hot chocolate in the cupboard. He jumped off his seat and slowly made his way over towards his mother, bringing the large knife from behind his back.

“Honey, do you want marsh-” she was cut off as she felt an excruciating pain explode in her back. She gasped , feeling whatever it was slide deeper into her back. She tried to speak, she tried to scream, but nothing came out, she could only whimper as she felt whatever it was that was in her back quickly leave her. She slowly turned around to find her 5-year-old son standing there, bloody knife in hand.

Tears immediately flooded her eyes, not because of the pain, but shocked to find out that her own son just stabbed her in the back and now she was slowly dying. “Ba… ba-by…” she stuttered out, trying to reach out to her son, but failing as her knees buckled beneath her, causing her to collapse to her knees. He vision began to blur, everything coming in and out as she continued to reach out to her son, who still stood before her with the large knife that was covered in blood, her blood. Finally she felt her senses fade away and had just allowed her body to crumble to the floor.

Billy stared down at his now dead mother, the red mark on her back growing larger as blood now seeped out the corner of her mouth. He dropped the bloody knife and just walked away as if nothing had happened. He walked out of the kitchen and stopped when he heard a howling laughter come from his parents room. He stood there for a moment, staring at the closed door, but then glanced at the Christmas tree that was wrapped in bright, flashing colored lights.

“I love this fucking show!” he exclaimed as he finished off the liquor in his bottle. He looked at his empty bottle, as if it would magically refill itself. “Baby!” he screamed. “Get me another bottle of Jacks please!” he fell silent, hoping she heard him. A minute passed and no one came into the room. “BABY!” he screamed again, “get me another fucking bottle of Jack Daniels.”

Everything remained silent. Just as he was about to get up he heard the door creak open slowly and then heard the door close. He smirked, “It’s about fucking time.” he said as he began mumbling under his breath. “Fucking good for nothing woman…”

Billy crept up behind his father, a string of Christmas lights in hand.

He started getting restless at the fact that his wife hadn’t handed his bottle of liquor yet. “Woman, what the fuck is taking so lo-” he strangled out, feeling something wrap tightly around his throat, constricting his airway.

Billy stood behind him, pulling the lights tighter around his neck, wrapping it around a few times. He watched from behind as his father continued to struggle against him, trying to rip the string of lights away from his neck, but it only resulted in him pulling it tighter. He grasped onto the lights tightly, feeling the bulbs shatter underneath his grasp, the shards of glass tearing into his flesh. Finally Billy released the hold of the lights, which caused his father to gasp and wheeze for air.

“What…” he coughed out, unwrapping the strand of lights from around his neck, “the fuck… are you doing?” he asked as he turned around.

As soon as he turned around, Billy thrusted the large knife into his stomach, the same large knife he used to kill his mother. His father gasped, feeling the sharp metal object break his skin and slide easily into his stomach. Before he could react, Billy quickly withdrew the knife and continued to stab him, dismissing the fact that his father’s blood was spraying out all over him now. He continued to stab his father until he finally fell to the ground, watching as a river of blood flowed out and pooled around him.

Breathing heavily, Billy stared down at his dead father. He tossed the knife down at his corpse and slowly made his way out of the room. He closed the door and just stood there for a while, taking in the bitter aroma of blood that now stained the air. He heard a whimper come from the living room, and his eyes automatically shot over to his little sister’s crib. Slowly he made his way over to her, finding her to be wide awake now. She looked up at her older brother, who had dark, menacing eyes and was covered in a dark, crimson liquid that glistened in the night; she started to cry.

“Shh…” Billy signaled for her to be quiet, placing his bloody finger to her lips. “everything is gonna be okay now.” he whispered. His baby sister continued to wail, and he tried to think of something that would make her be quiet. “Silent night…” he began to sing. “holy night… all is calm, all is bright… round yon virgin mother and child… holy infant so tender and mild… sleep in heavenly peace…” he paused when he noticed that she had fallen silent and was slowly drifting back to sleep.

He walked over towards their fireplace and had jumped on the couch to grab a candle that was arranged on the mantelpiece. He took the candle and made his way over to their Christmas tree, where he the flaming wax stick into the tree, causing it to catch ablaze. He stood there for a moment, watching as the flames engulfed the decorated tree, the ornaments and lights shattering under the immense heat. He turned and looked back at his sister’s crib, sauntering over towards her once again. He looked down and seen that she was still sleeping, a bloody fingerprint still upon her lips.

“Sleep in heavenly peace…” he whispered as he leaned down to place one last kiss upon his sister’s forehead.

He looked back at the tree, which was nothing more but a large flame. The curtains and everything else around the tree soon caught fire and was steadily spreading. Billy took one last look at his sleeping sister before he walked out of the house, leaving everything behind to be consumed by the raging fire he started.