25 classy Christmas tales (Tales 1-6) (Part One)

*Oh yes, it’s finally here! Creepy Christmas time is here again! Now, this story is under my folder titled “25 Christmas tales!”. Gacha Club character designs are under my forum titled “My character designs<33”. Enjoy!*

Tale One-Under the snow

Layna lay still on the snow, her arms and legs spread out, tired of making her snow angels. She had already opened up the gifts she got from Santa and took to playing outside in the abundant snow. Mommy was making hot chocolate, Daddy was making the special big breakfast that he only made on Christmas.

The icicles hung on the thin black tree branches in a way that suggested fairies had made it, the sunlight glittering on the clear surface. The snow had covered her neighborhood so beautifully, like a perfect Christmas dream.

As Layna lay there on the ground, she wondered what kind of gifts she would get at her Grandparents’ house, for after she had eaten her breakfast, she and her parents would get ready to celebrate Christmas at her Grandparents’ house with the rest of her family.

She’d have to get up soon and go inside, but she didn’t want to get up just yet. The icicles were so pretty, the sun shining behind the white, dusky clouds had a soft pink glow that looked far too angelic to be real.

Layna lay there, taking it all in, for soon, there would be a hustle and bustle for her to get ready for a loud, chaotic celebration.

………………………………………………………………….

After a few minutes, Layna took to gathering snow up in her gloved hands and smushing it up into a ball that would break in seconds. No, she wasn’t trying to build a snowman, for she could never get the roundness of the balls right. She just wanted to collect snow and make it into balls, for the feeling of picking up the snow and shaping into whatever she liked was strangely hypnotic and pleasant, for all she had to do was take a mound of snow and roll it into a ball…take a mound of snow and roll it into a ball…take a mound of snow and roll it into a ball…

Layna stopped. Underneath a pile of snow was what appeared to be icicles that were in the shape of extended fingers, like a hand reaching out.

She continued digging up the snow, her heart racing as she thought of what could be under there, as she searched for what could be waiting for her.

It was probably just ice, but why did it look like a hand? It seemed too detailed and defined to be a coincidence. Maybe it really was just ice, but why would it be sticking out of the snow? Ice didn’t do that.

When Layna finished digging, a gasp escaped her lips, for what had laid before her none other than a young woman, except it looked like she was completely made out of ice and snow, right down to her long dress that was stitched just like a nightgown.

The young woman opened her eyes and sat up from the ground, her ice claws gripping onto the snow as if she were trying to balance herself.

Layna stood still, unable to run, frozen in shock as she stared at the snow woman with the icy blue eyes. What did she want? Why did she move? What was she going to do? Was Layna supposed to run or stay? What was she supposed to do?

The young woman smiled and said:

“Child, fear not. I am Flykra, a winter sprite. I wake up on only the coldest days. You are?”

The woman had jagged icicle teeth, like a monster’s, but her voice sounded as smooth as the old Christmas music that played in the car radio at nightly drives when her parents wanted to show her all of the decorated houses in the neighborhood and so, Layna felt her terror melt away and said:

“I’m Layna.”

Flykra clapped her hands as though that were the most wonderful thing she had ever heard and limped up into a standing position, her dress sweeping around her just like the gown a Princess would wear.

“Layna! That’s a lovely name! Can I show you a magic trick?” Flykra asked, her eyes glittering with excitement.

A magic trick? From a winter sprite? Well, Layna had never seen a sprite perform a magic trick before, so she nodded her head, intrigue bubbling up inside of her.

Flykra curtseyed before reaching into her own left arm and digging deep inside of it, grimacing as she did so, as though she were searching for something that she lost.

Layna cringed, slightly disgusted. It wasn’t something that she really wanted to see, but she didn’t say anything, for Flykra was being so nice to her and it would be rude of Layna to tell Flykra that she was being “gross”.

But wait…Flykra was pulling out…snowflakes? From out of her arm, she was pulling out crystal snowflakes in deep detail and each and every one of them was linked, like a party streamer.

“Do you like it?” Flykra asked with a proud smile, holding up the snowflake streamer with both claws like a prized possession.

Layna beamed and nodded her head, impressed by what she had done and feeling bad for ever having been disgusted in the first place.

Flykra smiled back and circled Layna with the snowflake streamer, moving so fast that the snowflakes looked like stars, that Layna felt she was ascending, higher and higher, like an angel reaching towards the sun…

“Breakfast time!” Dad called out from the side door.

Just like that, Flykra was gone, but Layna saw the snowflake streamer lying delicately on the ground before it melted into the white snow, before it traveled deep below.

Layna stared at the spot where the snowflake streamer was before running inside for her breakfast.

She had seen Flykra. She had seen the snowflake streamer melt. It couldn’t be fake because she had seen it with her own eyes and she was wide awake.

Layna knew deep down without any real thought, just like how she knew to breath, that all of what happened to her was real. That it wasn’t made up.

She hoped to see Flykra again.

Tale Two-Only the candlelight

“…The angel smiled upon the child and gave her a kiss on the head, blessing her with infinite joy like no other.” Aize finished, closing the book at the last lines.

It was late into the night during Christmas Eve in the year 1953. Aize had read to his little sister, Lilia, her favorite Christmas tale, the one about the angel visiting a little girl during Christmas. Aize forgot the exact title of it, but he guessed that it was called “The angel’s visit” or something like that.

Lilia was fast asleep in her bed, like she always was whenever Aize read the book to her. He pulled the blanket higher up so that she would be completely warm and put the book on the nightstand. He then grabbed the lit candlestick and headed to his room down the hall.

He could have held a lamp instead of a candlestick, but Aize liked the gentle glow of the candlelight, the glow that felt like home and Christmas. He only brought out a candlestick during December, as it felt like the right thing to do during such a time.

Aize and Lilia’s parents lived far away, but one day, the four of them would be together again. All Aize had to do was find the right way around the corner and then he would find them both.

Aize opened the door to his bedroom and stepped inside, the candlelight still lighting his way.

………………………………………………………………

It was Christmas Day in 1950. Aize and Lilia had finished opening their presents and were outside in the woods. They lived in a cabin that made Aize feel as though they were both completely disconnected from the world, but when the Christmas season came, life in the woods was magical.

Aize wanted to show Lilia the pinecones. He used to collect them and paint them himself before she was born, but with her around, he could finally have someone to help him out.

She was starting to walk much better than before, but she still wobbled a bit, so he held on to her mitten hand so that she wouldn’t fall.

“You can pick the first pinecone for yourself, then I’ll go for myself, and so on. This is what a pinecone looks like.” Aize said, stopping their walk and picking up a pinecone from the ground.

Lilia nodded and Aize put the pinecone back down, walking on in the snow.

Lilia did not say another word in their walk. Aize didn’t ask for anything more and would stop to pick up pinecones once in a while, but she would just cling onto his hand and not speak. The more Aize would bring up collecting pinecones, the more Lilia’s eyes seemed to wander, as though she weren’t completely interested in what he was talking about.

Aize felt his heart sink within his chest. His parents told him that Lilia was still too young to really connect with the world, but Aize still wanted to take her with him anyway, just so he could have company when searching for pinecones.

He put the four pinecones that he collected into his two pockets in his snow pants and turned around, heading back home. Lilia still clung to his hand silently, watching him with her wide brown eyes.

The bare trees stretched out before him with their spindly limbs, snow being collected on their branches like the dust that sometimes built up on his bedroom floor. The tree trunks seemed to go on longer than he remembered, but he didn’t think much of it, for he had been going to the woods for a very long time and knew his way around.

Aize trekked on in the billowing snow, careful to not let go of Lilia, to keep on walking until he got home. He couldn’t lose his little sister, his parents trusted him to watch over her.

He walked on and on until he found the familiar cabin with the glowing candlesticks by the windows. His parents liked to put up candlesticks during Christmas, because they said that it helped the “angels find them.”

But when Aize opened the front door to the cabin, he didn’t see anybody there. Everything was in its right place. The Christmas tree, the unwrapped presents, the furniture.

Except when Aize called out they were home, nobody responded.

Aize and Lilia looked in every room, searching the entire cabin to see if they had missed anything, if their parents were in a room they didn’t look.

Nobody but the two of them were in the cabin. Tears spilled out of Lilia’s eyes as she gripped Aize’s hand tightly, the only thing that was familiar to her.

Yet there was a lingering sense inside of him that something was off, that something wasn’t clicking right.

Everything was in place…but where were their parents?

………………………………………………………………

As usual, Aize couldn’t sleep well. It was the fourth year since that strange occurrence at the cabin and still, he couldn’t find their parents. Where could they have possibly gone? Why did they disappear? Remarkably, Lilia still had vivid memories of their parents, just like him. Just like him, she wanted to find their parents and be with them once again.

Aize used to go out at night and look for them himself, but it would take him hours to find the cabin again and so he took to searching in the daylight, because he would be able to see better and he couldn’t risk getting lost and leaving Lilia all alone in the cabin.

Guilt gnawed at his bones, for it like his parents weren’t that far, that he wasn’t looking hard enough. Why couldn’t he do more to find them? Why couldn’t he search in more places? Where were they? Why did they disappear? Why-

“Aize! Come down here!” Lilia’s voice cried out.

Aize pushed down the covers and grabbed the lamp from his nightstand, ignoring the candlestick as Lilia had called out with such urgency that it felt wrong to light a candle at the moment.

He ran down the stairs, the dim lamplight shaking as he hurried to his sister and then, when he got down, he opened the door to her room…

Lilia stood up, staring at something that glowed softly. The being in question had a vaguely human shape, it looked as though it were made of fog. It had misty wings that flapped up and down as though the wings could sweep the whole world away. In its barely-there hand, it clasped a candlestick, its orange glow lighting the room in an ethereal light.

“You children have been kept in this cabin for far too long. This cabin is not your home, it’s of another world. A world you were never supposed to find. Me and my friends have searched for you forever, but now, I have finally found you. Come with me and I will take you both home, to where you belong.” The being said in a whispering voice that somehow still echoed.

Lilia turned away from the being and looked up at Aize with glittering eyes, her mouth spread out in a smile. Aize hadn’t seen such a big smile on her at all until that very moment, until that very night.

“It’s an angel! It can take us home!” Lilia cried out joyfully.

Aize took another look at the being. Frankly, he didn’t know what it was and he didn’t know how much to believe. If the being said that it was looking for them with their friends, why didn’t it come sooner? That wouldn’t be entirely impossible, since it was capable of doing magical things. If it was an angel, like Lilia believed, then why didn’t it come on other days? Aize always had a candle with him when it got dark.

But more than his own doubt, he was tired. Tired of worrying about what happened to their parents. Tired of searching and wondering. All he wanted was to go back home and for everything that happened in the past years to seem like a hazy dream.

“It’s good to know that someone wants to help us. Let’s go.” Aize said gently.

Lilia walked up to the being until she was so close she could have embraced it and Aize joined her, ruffling her hair and earning a grin from her.

The being (or the angel), had swept its wings around the children so that they would only see cloudy white colors and the glow of candle, which was getting brighter…brighter…brighter…

The being and the children disappeared instantly, but only the candlelight remained for the longest until it too faded away and then, there was nothing left in the cabin but the stillness of a Christmas without family to make it truly alive.

Tale Three-Christmas dream

Lights twinkle in garlands

Boxes are wrapped in bright paper and plastic bows

The world is covered in white fog and softly falling down snow

Those with love burrowed deep in their flesh grasp one another to spread the warmth

It’s all a Christmas dream

To not be completely alone

But some souls are not so lucky

For there was one such woman named Casiane

A magical witch who provided herb remedies for all of the humans who needed it

A woman of great love and wonder

A woman who never took time for a love life of her own until

Until that one Christmas Eve

When she had met Novalie

A cast-out creature with nowhere to turn

With no one to trust

Her last resort was the hidden cabin in the woods

Casiane didn’t ask Novalie about what happened

She didn’t ask Novalie why she was forsaken

Her heart broke for the gaunt, wire-haired woman

So unfairly pushed aside

She tended to Novalie’s wounds

She listened to her stories with a tender heart and bright eyes

Never did she want to leave Novalie behind

As the days went on, the two grew closer

The ties between them bloomed like a four leaf clover

December came around again

Novalie was still there, for she had found more than a friend

Casiane lit the candles, she hung up the red bows

A lovely woman like Novalie didn’t deserve to freeze in the snow

They would have a simple dinner of ham, cheese, and bread

Nothing much, but it helped to rid them of dreary January dread

Tucked away in that cabin

In their own little fantastical world

Everything was just as it should be

But Casiane’s cabin was swarmed with soldiers, demanding that they’d snatch Novalie away

She tried to end them with her powers

Far too many of them had collected into her little cabin under the hour

Her heart raced, she tried to stop them as best she could

But a witch used to healing was no match for the brute force of many soldiers

They had slashed and slain poor Novalie

Casiane let out such a bloodcurdling scream

Her heartache coursed through her body and burned into her mind

She asked herself the harrowing questions:

“Why couldn’t I do more?”

“Why couldn’t I save Novalie’s life?”

But a witch doesn’t have time to let her sorrows fester

She instead kept it stored in the back of her mind, left it to die in time

Yet as the winter had ceased, her heart was still cold

Casiane closed her doors, for nothing seemed to come in her mind

It was as though Novalie had taken Casiane’s soul with her to the other side

The fear she had thought faded had only begun to rot into charcoal-black hate

She hated the soldiers for taking Novalie away

She hated herself for making a fatal mistake

So one bitter December

A year after Novalie joined the realm of the dead

Casiane vowed to find her

Only then would she rest

She set out to the snowy outside

And rested by her favorite childhood tree

By that evergreen tree, there held many fond memories

One of the prettiest of them all, her first kiss with Novalie

Casiane took hold of the feelings she had on that day

The feelings of holding frail Novalie close

Of promising to shower her with all the love in the world

Of giving her everything that the world failed to give

She let the feelings take hold within her rib cage

And as the winter days went on

And her body lacked food and water

Her soul went on to fuse with the tree

No longer bound in human form

She became a plant of green leaves and white beads

Lingering on a tree

Taking all of its vitality

If a dark-haired woman with tired eyes were to stand near the tree

She’d creep out of her true form and become a woman of beads and leaves

She’d give the dark-haired maiden a kiss

Poor Casiane would mistake the woman for her dearest Novalie

She waits every Christmas

To find her once again

That lost witch

All she wants is Novalie

Her Christmas dream

Tale Four-Childhood Christmas

Once, there were two seventeen year old boys named Parker and Grant. They were best friends, having known each other since they were babies, and having grown up with each at the Maddox All-Boys Boarding School. Grant was known for his odd habit of being “too quiet” and Parker was known for having “too much of an attitude”.

But when December came, the two boys would go door-to-door and sing Christmas carols together. During that time of year, everyone forgot their initial judgements of them both and simply saw them as young children with bright eyes that knew only what the adults wanted them to know, that were sweet only because the adults wanted them to be sweet.

During Christmas, the boys were perfect.

………………………………………………………………….

“Are you up for Christmas caroling this year?” Parker asked as he sat cross-legged on the bed.

Grant was in his room, sitting on the soft armchair, picking away at a scab on his leg. He did it when he was younger, but as the years went on, he began to do it a lot more often. Parker used to ask him why, but since Grant would never answer, he stopped. If Grant didn’t want to talk about it, then Parker wouldn’t force an answer out of him. It was only fair, after all.

Just like every December, they were in Parker’s room, talking about what they would both be doing in the holidays. Grant didn’t like his own room that much, for he found it too depressing since it was one of the rooms in the mansion boarding school that had a small window, so small that it was a mere square amidst the stone.

The snow was piling up on the ground outside, the sky was starting to dim in a dusky blue color. Only the lampposts served as the lights outside.

Parker smiled as he stared out at the ice-crystalized window, watching the snow fall gently on the ground. It was in moments like those that Parker forgot other people asked too many questions about Grant, that when he had to speak up for Grant, people would say that he was being “overly dramatic” and that he needed to “chill out”.

Well, Parker found himself to be a rather calm person when people weren’t aggravating him. If they just didn’t open their stupid mouths and said their backwater opinions, then maybe Parker wouldn’t be so mean. He liked to see others smile, he just didn’t want his voice to be lost in the void.

Most of all, he didn’t want Grant to not be taken seriously. There was more than his quietness that people made fun of. It was how he picked at his skin, how he dressed in clothes that didn’t quite match, how he collected dead baby birds in the woods.

Sure, he did things that lots of people didn’t do, but that didn’t make it wrong. At the end of the day, Parker was grateful to have Grant in his life because Grant brought a certain bright, unique joy to it that no other person ever could.

“I’d love to. This town could really use some sweet Christmas carols.” Grant said in a voice that sounded inhumanly raspy, as though his throat were clogged with tears.

Parker didn’t know why that thought came in his head. It just flickered in like the cheap string Christmas tree lights. He didn’t know if Grant would be upset if Parker asked, but it still felt wrong to leave it alone, for what if it was something that was gnawing at him deep inside and Grant didn’t have the confidence to bring it up himself and let it fester inside of him?

He was probably just worried too much, but still, he didn’t want to risk Grant not being listened to enough, especially by him.

“Are you alright? Is there anything on your mind?” Parker asked.

Grant didn’t say anything for a few minutes, but then he said:

“I’m fine.”

Grant said it in that same raspy voice as before, he didn’t look up, but Parker decided not to ask about anything else.

By the way Grant was closing in on himself, Parker could tell that he didn’t want to talk much on the matter anymore. He always seemed to make himself smaller whenever he didn’t want to talk about something anymore.

So Parker took to looking out the window, watching the snow fall on the ground, trying not to let any worries creep up on him.

They would go caroling later and then it’d all be completely calm, just like it was every time.

………………………………………………………………….

After the day at school had passed, the both of them were going from door to door, singing their hearts away. Grant’s voice shone the most in their Christmas carols, a soprano angel’s harmony. Parker could sing well too, but Grant’s voice was more fluid, more rhythmic…more alive.

Why didn’t he use his voice more?

Parker didn’t count the amount of houses that he and Grant went to. He never did. He simply let time stretch on infinitely, like the whole world was hand drawn, 2D movie that had music hazily playing in the background, like a fantasy childhood world that he could cling onto in cold, uncertain nights.

They must have stopped at plenty of houses, because the sky had fallen into a thick velvet blackness where even the moon was shyly peeking out of fluffy, cotton-wound clouds. No house answered the door in that hour, so Parker and Grant decided to walk back to school, Grant seeming to walk further and further away from him with every step.

As their boots crunched on the snow, Parker couldn’t help but think of when they were both little, when Grant spoke a whole lot more, when Parker didn’t always yell.

When everything was peaceful. When they would run so far in the winter snow, whooping and calling out to each other as though it were their last moments on Earth and they had to cherish every second of it.

*Why is he so quiet? Is he deaf? Mute?*

*Why does he collect dead baby birds? Is he a murderer? Does he KILL people?*

*He’s quiet because he hurts people…*

*He can HEAR you! Why do you care so much?! Don’t you have something BETTER to do than to say bad things about my friend? LEAVE US ALONE!*

The memories of when Parker had to yell at past kids jutted in through the happier ones, bringing a screeching pain to the back of his head. Goodness, why didn’t they leave him alone? Grant probably had his own reasons that he was the way that he was, there was no need…

Grant…Grant…

Parker looked around. Nobody else was with him. He stood on the snow, the bare trees reaching out towards him with brittle branches, the snow caked around his feet, his insides beginning to feel as empty and pointless as January.

Under the light of the moon, he could see bootprints leading into the cluttered woods. There was only one other person with him in the vast winter valley, so Parker excitedly followed the winding bootprints into the skeletal woods until he got further…further…further…

In the light of the moon, Parker could see a figure hunched on the ground. It looked as though it had a red felt coat that was as obnoxiously statement-marking as the red on candy canes. There was only one person he knew who wore felt coats, but then, it couldn’t be…

“Grant?” Parker asked.

The figure shot up its tousled black-haired head and turned around to face Parker. Its face had gentle hazel eyes, like collected Fall leaves, except it had snow built up around its pale face and its teeth were so, so sharp and covered in rotting flesh and pointed ears that protruded from under its hair.

Yet it looked somewhat like him…but how could it be Grant? He knew that Grant always acted different, but that thing in the woods…oh god, what if it was a demon pretending to be him? Were demons real? Was it a demon? Goodness, what exactly was that creature?

Parker took a step back, about to run, but then-

“Parker, I didn’t want you to find out. Ever. But I’m not human. I’m an elf. We have to eat fresh meat to keep ourselves alive and I couldn’t bear to eat humans, especially you. You are the greatest friend I could ever ask for and it just feels simply wrong to eat something that looks and thinks so much like me. So I have to eat dead baby birds to sustain myself. My parents are human. I know not why I am this way. But I try to not speak as much as my voice can bring terrible curses and I try to be as human as I can.”

Grant turned away from Parker, as though he were ashamed of himself.

“I don’t know why I’m becoming more monstrous than usual.” Grant said in a subdued, saddened tone.

Parker walked up to Grant and sat next to him, his heart sinking deep inside. Even though Grant didn’t look exactly like himself and the words of Grant were rushing all around his mind, he was still Parker’s friend and he would hate to leave Grant behind.

“You’ve never hurt a soul before. You have been spending all these years trying to survive…and now you feel bad for something you can’t control. Listen, Grant. It’s still a lot to take in, considering you have been keeping these things from me, but you’re my friend and I’m not going to abandon you. Now, do you want to make hot chocolate in my room?” Parker asked, hoping that Grant would feel a little bit better than before.

Grant gave him a small smile and nodded.

Together, the two of them walked off to school, Grant feeling a bit lighter than before, Parker still caring for him, just like he always did.

In spite of them being older, they would still be there for one another.

Always.

Tale Five-Winter blessings

Oona smiled softly as the piano notes rose from the tips of her fingers, reverberating around the auditorium and harmonizing with the voices of the school chorus.

It was December Twenty-Fourth, Christmas Eve in 2013. Her school had closed its doors until five o’ clock, when all of the kids could prepare themselves for the seven o’ clock recital. Before arriving, Oona put on her sparkly black dress with long sleeves, the one that looked as though it had the whole galaxy sewn into them, the one that made her feel like a Princess.

Her eyes were on the piano keys, but she knew that her parents were in the audience, watching her perform. Every Christmas was a wonderful Christmas, but on that particular Christmas, Oona knew that it would be a special one, for she was going to be chosen for Yamileth!

Every Christmas, if someone in the Dolivo family was born as an only child, they were chosen to be given to Yamileth, the magical snow woman who appeared only during the holiday season to give kids the opportunity to see the “true enchanted essence of winter.”

Oona didn’t know what the “true enchanted essence of winter” was, but from the way her parents described it, it seemed like something every kid should want, like something every kid should have the privilege of seeing. She didn’t know what Yamileth looked like and she didn’t know where her cousins were after they were chosen for Yamileth, because Oona hadn’t seen them in years, but her parents said that they went to a “blessed place” and that she was “worthy to come there”.

Oona pressed the last notes of the piano keys and stood up with the rest of the chorus, grinning from ear to ear as she watched the people clapping, her heart racing rapidly in her chest at the thought of the many wonderful things that were to come to her that Christmas Eve.

That Christmas Eve would by far be the best one.

………………………………………………………………….

Oona was sitting in the backseat of the car, watching the trees go by. Her parents had driven through the highway and instead of going home, they were in the woods, the bare, black trees carrying white snow on their branches like globs of cake that piled high for all to enjoy.

The night sky was black with dark blue that glowed tranquilly like her nightlight, casting a soft serenity in the quiet winter scene.

Oona grasped her lamb plush tightly, glad that she had left her doll in the car so that it too could see how dazzling everything was in Christmas.

The woods made Oona think of fairies that fluttered in and out, fairies that hid in the trees and under the leaves, watching the world go by with inquisitive eyes. She had read many picture books that painted the woods as a mysterious place that had many secrets awaiting humans if one simply looked, if one simply explored the different paths. The books said that adults didn’t do much, that they got bothered with other things and forgot what was really important, what really mattered.

Oona never wanted to be that way.

She turned away from the window and faced the blurred seat in front of her, for there were no highway lights to bring vivid colors to the world around her, only the dusky glimmer of the moon and asked:

“Is this where I will meet Yamileth?”

She had an idea that her parents were taking her to see Yamileth, but she just wanted to be sure.

“Yes, Oona. This is where you will meet Yamileth.” Mommy said.

The radio couldn’t play Christmas music anymore, they had driven too far into the woods for there to be a signal. The only sound that Oona could hear was the car wheels rolling on the snow-capped rock path, a few bumps here and there, but otherwise, relaxing.

Yet still, she wondered…

“What will happen when I meet her?” She asked, for that idea suddenly popped in her head.

“Wait until later. Santa doesn’t give out early presents, does he? Be patient, Oona.” Daddy said.

Oona didn’t say another word and instead twirled the pink ribbon around the lamb’s neck. Her parents both spoke to her gently, but she could hear a certain edge to their voices that told her to stop asking questions and instead wait for them to show her.

She looked out the window, watching the pleasant trees go by.

………………………………………………………………….

The car had driven on and on until it slowed down. From outside her window, Oona could see the headlights illuminating the angel woman sculpture in front of her, the angel woman who was reaching her hands out to the sky as though she was trying to grasp at something no one had ever grasped before.

Oona gasped when she saw the angel sculpture, in awe of its size and beauty. It looked like something that came out of the church she and her parents went to, something that was old and held an infinite importance in the world.

The car stopped. Mommy and Daddy unbuckled their seatbelts. Oona asked if she could bring her lamb with her, but they both said no, so she stuffed it in her coat pocket and zipped the pocket up, not wanting the lamb to miss out on the fun.

The three of them stepped out of the car, Oona walking up to the angel to get a better look at it.

The moonlight showed cracked lines on the angel’s surface, cracked lines from age, like her Grandparents. Her mouth was spread into a smile, a wide smile that held such warmth that made Oona think of all her cousins in Christmas, all of her cousins that she rarely saw, that she cherished seeing every year.

Oona couldn’t wait to see them again.

Once she was close to the angel, she pressed her gloved hand on the stone surface it was standing on, imagining that the angel was alive and around to help her, to show her things that humans couldn’t, to give her love that would last for many, many years.

She felt somebody wrap their arms around her and looked up, grinning when she saw that it was Mommy. Mommy was hugging her! Mommy was looking at the angel with her!

Mommy was…putting a hand over her mouth? Why? That was weird. Why did she put a hand over Oona’s mouth? Shouldn’t she be able to talk? How else would Oona say lovely things about the angel if Mommy put a hand over her mouth?

“Yamileth, we humbly offer you this child to sustain yourself this blackened December night. Protect our home from the unforgiving winter!” Mommy cried out.

What? What did she mean? What was she going to do? Why was Mommy turning her around? What was Daddy doing? Why couldn’t she let Oona go? Wait…Daddy was holding something sharp, something pointed…

Tears welled from Oona’s eyes as Daddy plunged the knife into her heart. It hurt so bad, it felt like getting a million needles at the doctor’s office…

Why couldn’t it all be as nice as the holiday recital, as the piano with its sweet sounds?

Why?

………………………………………………………………….

Oona lay curled up by the angel, not daring to get up. When she had opened her eyes, she saw that she was in the same woods, only the sky was a much lighter blue, a cotton blue color and it was snowing, unlike before, when there was snow around but no snowflakes and the sky was dark. Her parents were gone, but Oona could still feel the screeching pain inside of her, the pain that made everything feel so, so bad.

Oona didn’t know how to explain it, but she felt like she wasn’t in her world anymore. Things looked right, but something felt…off, not quite okay.

She unzipped her coat pocket and took out the lamb, holding it close to her heart. The white lamb with its pink bow collar and big black eyes felt like her only real friend, the only one she could trust. Why, she’d stay with the angel and lamb forever if that was how she would be safe!

But there was a white light coming towards her, like sunlight beams. Oona stared at it, transfixed by its light, a little scared of what would come from it.

It got closer…closer…closer…it wasn’t a light, it was a woman…an ice woman with a mouth full of icicle-blade teeth, with curling ice horns, with a regal blue dress and long blue cape…

Oona curled herself into a ball, avoiding the piercing eyes of the woman, the eyes that were too vivid, too keen, to be human.

She watched the woman’s dress stop swishing and instead spool out on the snow, as though she were sitting in front of Oona. She felt the woman put a thin, clawed hand on her arm and heard the woman tsk tsk as though she were incredibly disappointed in something.

Huh…disappointed?

“They always think that eating children will make me protect them from the cold. Don’t they know it stands against my principles? I wonder where they got this idea. Hmm…no matter. What is your name, child? I’m sure you know me.” The woman said.

Oona looked up, her head wrought with confusion. The woman’s eyes were still stark-shocking to look at, but somehow, they seemed…kinder?

“Yamileth?” Oona asked, the pieces clicking together.

Yamileth nodded.

“I’m Oona.” Oona said, her panic shriveling away like tree branches when they lost their leaves.

“Come, Oona. I will protect you.” Yamileth said, extending a clawed hand out to her.

From what Yamileth said, it seemed that Mommy and Daddy wanted Yamileth to eat her. That very idea disturbed Oona to her core, but maybe they were right about Yamileth helping her. Just not in the way they expected, she supposed.

Oona took her hand in Yamileth’s claw and didn’t let go, just like she didn’t let go of the little lamb.

Maybe her Christmas wouldn’t be so bad after all. Maybe there would be a piano!

Maybe everything would be okay.

Tale Six-Fannie the peppermint clown

One Christmas Eve in 1945

A little boy got quite a surprise!

For underneath the gold wrapping paper

Was a red-white swirl-covered clown doll with big brown eyes

Her certificate called her “Fannie”

The boy called her “scary”

He threw in the snow outside

He couldn’t be bothered with her big brown eyes

As time went on and seasons passed

Little Fannie never rotted away, she would last and last

Fannie stood tall, her porcelain creased with rust

Somebody would find her one day, she had complete trust

Fast forward to 2024

She’s found joy that she never felt before

For two clown women found her caked up in snow

And took her in that Christmas Eve

In that moment, Fannie knew

That she was loved so