I Am The Child Under The Stairs

I learned to dread Christmas. Every year it was the same thing. My drunken father falling into the Christmas tree knocking the Christmas tree down and breaking all of those pretty glass balls. Each year there were less and less glass balls to hang on the tree. Christmas is suppose to be a happy day but for me it was always sad. I live beneath the stairs in the basement. I am about 8 years old. I wear a long hooded robe. I sit under the stairs and look out onto a beautiful Christmas tree full of lights and a big star that sits way on top of the tree. The basement is dark except for the lights shining on the tree throwing shadows in all of the dark places. This is the Christmas tree I created in my minds' eye. This tree was mine and he couldn't destroy this one.

Written by: The Child Under The Stairs
longfang2 longfang2
Sep 21, 2012