
In that moment between sleeping and waking, there are two ways of being. Either all is well in the world, or something is wrong. You can feel it when you've overslept, or when Someone is in the house.
It took Sandy several moments to realise where she was (in her own bed, fully dressed). She had no recollection of getting there. Disoriented, skull pounding, she had a brain that felt like a lump of wet cake, and a tongue like cotton wool. It was like she'd been drinking.
Shit! The children!
Sandy stumbled to their rooms. The beds were pristine, themed cushions just so. Insta-ready.
People talk about "panic rising". It really does! Up through the belly and chest to beat furiously in the throat. It warred in her body with the groggy feeling that made it feel like she was lurching through treacle.
Sandy staggered through the house on leaden legs, ping-ponging off door frames. She shook her head, frustrated. Am I awake? Her voice slurred when she called out.
"Summer? Matty?? Wyatt??!"
She shouted for Karl, too, not expecting a response. The house was empty. Except for herself... and that feeling of dread, settling like a fleece and curling like vines.
She peeped out. His car was gone. He'd promised to get rid of the creepy elf doll, that was the last thing she remembered.
take it far away and burn it
He wasn't back yet. She frowned. Maybe there was a rational explanation. He might've dropped the children off at their Nana's. All she had to do was cal-
where's my phone?!
This was an unpleasant feeling, especially right now. Like losing a limb. Wracking her brain, Sandy retraced her steps. Had she dropped it in the cellar? The kitchen?
It was while she was upending sofa cushions that something squirmed in her gut and tickled the hairs on her neck.
She froze. Turned.
Jingles was back in his place. One side of his face being blackened and melted hadn't changed his ghastly grin. His tunic was singed, and his remaining eye was fixed, it seemed, on her.
He'd already completed his mischief tonight. Her phone lay smashed on the shelf beside him.
+
Thank you for reading!
The Christmas countdown has begun! St Nikolaus filled our shoes with sweets last night, lists have been written, the Christmas cake has been fed cherry rum twice a week since it was made, and is almost ready to ice. Season's greetings you lovely lot! Here's hoping I can hit my goal even with all the Christmas crazy!
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L.C. Schäfer
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I'm not a writer! I've just had too much coffee!
Sometimes writes under S.E.Holz
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