Dear Santa

Stephanie Hoogstad's,

Christmas Winter Horror Prompt

https://vocal.media/writers/winter-horror-story

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December 1968

Bath Township, Ohio



Dear Santa,

Kevin and Billy follow me around after school. They’re a lot bigger than me so I can’t do much about it. Normally, we just throw rocks, and set things on fire, and stuff. But I’ve really done it this time, Santa. They made me do it.

I didn’t want to! Please don’t put me on the naughty list. I really want that new Swiss Army pocket knife with all the cool tools.

When Kevin gave me that brick, they began to pressure me and called me ‘pussy’. That bum was just sleeping. I’ve seen him around before but, Santa, if he hadn’t been sleeping under the overpass, Kevin and Billy wouldn’t have even seen him. But they did. And it started with just one brick, off the overpass.

But then, when he fell over I realized he was wasn’t moving. His legs started twitching. Santa, why were they doing that? Kevin handed me another brick. And I didn’t want to but they made me do it. The brick was so cold it made my fingers hurt. Covered with ice and snow, I couldn’t even feel it leave my hand. After the second brick, I threw two more. He wasn’t moving anymore.

Then Kevin and Billy started throwing like six more. Santa, I had never seen brains before, well, human ones. His fingers were backwards and his eyeball was just dangling.

After that, we went to Billy’s house to play video games and his mom ordered a pizza. When I got home, neither of my parents heard me slam the door shut. I over heard my mom talking to my dad.

“I mean, it’s all over the news. They’re calling this the first gruesome murder since 1931! I think we should keep Jeff from school for the next few days, just until they catch whoever did this.”

My parents seemed very worried. I don’t know why. I haven’t seen them like this before. Mama normally doesn’t talk to me or even look at me.

When I started up the stairs, Mama grabbed me and asked me where I had been. Before I could answer she told me to get in the bath and get ready for bed.

Santa, when I got out of the shower, I saw Mama going through my backpack and she found his wallet. I only took it because Billy and Kevin said if we kept it, they would never know who he was.

Mama started backing away from me and hollered out for my dad. I walked towards her and she flinched while tears started falling down from her face. I said “Mama it’s just a wallet! We found it at the bridge! I’m sorry!”

Dropping the backpack, six fingers rolled out gracefully.

And I told her, “Mama, Billy made me do it.”

She shouted louder than I ever heard “DAMN IT JEFFREY! How many times have I told you, Billy and Kevin are not real!” Mama always called them my imaginary friends and that they ain’t real.

So many tears. I didn’t mean to make Mama cry, Santa.

Mama hollered for Daddy before she took off.

I could hear them screaming in the other room. Daddy shouting  “what, WHAT ?!”

I heard her tell Daddy “I just can’t do this anymore” and I wonder what she meant. I heard what sounded like the medicine bottle rattling…. again. Then Daddy said “oh do it already! You always cop out of everything anyway, good for nothin!”

This wouldn’t be the first time Mama has tried to take a really long nap. One time I asked why she always took so much medicine, and she told me “because it will take all the pain away, Jeffrey.”

This is the first time she’s left after taking her tired pills. I ain’t seen her in hours. Daddy don’t seem to care much either. He just stays locked in his study. Is this all my fault, Santa? Billy and Kevin always get me in trouble.

Please don’t put me on the naughty list. I’ll be good, I promise.

Sincerely, Jeffrey D

Bath Township, OH

Authors notes:

I wrote this piece with the idea of what a serial killer’s childhood and mental state could look like. It was inspired by researching the life of Dahmer. This is purely a fictional, and an experimental piece.