Disclaimer: I don't own Jack Skellington. Tim Burton does and I don't want to ever steal anything from him. I have no idea who owns Santa, but I'm sure that it's not me. The only bit I own is Amy and her Family.

            I don't know why the spaces between lines are so big *scratches head*

            Author's Note: Imagine the font on the tag as the Nightmare Before Christmas font. You'll know what I mean ;-)

***

Many people don't remember that Christmas Eve. Most don't want to. Those who do remember shudder whenever the recollection surfaces. But I didn't forget. And I don't shudder.

            I was ten and ready to take another step into the world of adults. I had informed my parents that I wanted them to put all my gifts under the tree rather then sneak some of them in while I slept on Christmas Eve. They both nodded, sharing a little smile. At the time I thought they were mocking me and still planning to "surprise" me on Christmas morning with invading presents under the tree. Presents snuck from the garage (which is where I deduced they stashed the "Santa gifts") into our living room while I lay in my bed with those "visions of sugarplums." I don't know why now, but at the time the smile and the thought vexed me. I was determined to foil their plans.

            So, when the Grand Night came, I stayed awake. I read under the covers until I heard Mother and Father go to bed, waited ten minutes or so, then began amusing myself with a board game. But I must have fallen asleep anyway, for not long after midnight I heard a thud coming from the living room and awoke with a start.

            I guessed immediately what was happening. I had allowed myself to sleep and had almost missed my parents' delivery! I tiptoed as fast as I could acrossed my room, through the door, and down the hall. I paused at the entry to the living room to contain myself, took a deep breath, and threw open the door.

            Nothing could have prepared me for what I now beheld.

            A very thin Something clad all in red knelt before our tree, depositing what looked like boxes, though I couldn't tell for sure as the only light was from the streetlamp outside and the colored lights on the tree. It wasn't those that held my gaze anyway. The Thin Something finished his task, and I knew that at any moment he would turn and see me, but I stood stock still and stared at Him or It anyway. Then he did stand. I remember the thought "He is much taller than dad. Even taller than uncle Jacob!" swiftly entering and leaving my mind as He (for I was becoming by the second more certain that he was a He and not an It) turned to look down at me.

            He didn't seem at all surprised to see me, though if my mouth had been open any farther I would have been in danger of catching a fly. He just stared back at me, with me staring intently at him. But my gaze wasn't really in fear at all, though if you had seen him I can guess that yours would be. For he was very tall and very thin and dressed in brightest red, and other details were becoming noticeable. Chiefly that his hands only had four fingers on them. And he didn't really have a face or eyes. Two blank sockets the size of tennis balls were fixed upon me. But I wasn't in the least bit scared anymore. I felt wonder and something like a long-lost joy inside of me. I can only guess what he was feeling inside of him.

            It takes much longer to describe this than it did to actually happen. In a matter of seconds we had gotten good looks at each other, and he decided to break the silence and speak.

            "Merry Christmas, little girl! What might *your* name be?"

            I decided to forgive him for calling me "Little Girl", such was my slowly growing delight and sense of awe.

            "Amy." I replied. Then, because I could think of nothing else to say and because something in me didn't want him to leave, I asked, "What is yours?"

            For a split second he seemed a little taken aback by my question. No wonder, I think now. The other kiddies who caught sight of him probably were too tongue-tied to say anything at all, and I was asking *him* questions!

            "Well, my name is Jack, but tonight I'm Sandy Claws" He replied, standing a little straighter and looking a little prouder. He had a deep-ish voice that seemed slightly put on. I don't know why I didn't wonder that he pronounced the name of the well-known saint in such an odd way. It didn't seem wrong to me. Nor did his presence in replacement of the Jolly Old Elf bother me in the least. I thought then and I think now that I would much rather be visited by this happy and seemingly young skeletal man than by an overweight old guy. Maybe that's just me.

            "Well, I must be going now. Lots of other children to visit!" He smiled and shouldered the great bag that was sitting on the floor next to the couch. Something shifted in it. I smiled back.

            "Merry Christmas!" I said softly.

I didn't think his grin could grow any bigger, but now it spread acrossed his whole face. Maybe mine did too.

            With his long legs it only took him one and a half strides to reach the fireplace. He knelt and shoved the bag up while I watched. Then he himself crawled in and stood on his head, with his legs going up the chimney.

            "Ho Ho Ho-eeeeheeeheeheee!!" he sang out gleefully, to my enchantment. Then he pushed himself up, and was gone.

            I stood there in the cold living room for a while before turning to the gifts. How I wanted to know what this strange visitor had chosen to give me! I almost almost dashed over to the tree. I almost tore all the paper from the oddly shaped packages. They were right there, feeling like mischief and curiosity. I imagined what might be within. I came so so close to falling into a frenzy of unwrapping delight.

But I was ten. I was old enough to wait until morning and open the gifts with my parents and older sister. The thought made me feel very sad and it seemed like a horribly long time until the dawn. But I was ten. I had to learn to act my age.

So, with the smallest sigh, I turned my back on the tree and walked through the door. One last glance behind me at the cluster of new and strange objects. One more wistful sigh. Then I went to my room, and fell asleep with the Stranger's smile in my mind.

***

When my eyes beheld the tree the next morning, the gifts from Jack were gone. Replaced by ordinary square boxes in red and green paper.

I cried when I saw them. But softly and to myself. No one else saw the tear roll down my cheek.

            I remembered to feign indignation at my parents for sneaking gifts out after all. I knew they were expecting it and would wonder if I neglected to complain. I didn't want them to wonder at me. I just wanted to be left alone. And I was. All they did was smile at each other again.

            I don't recall much of the Present Opening Ceremony of that day. I don't remember what I got, or what Mother got, or what Daddy got. I do remember that Claire received her first set of cosmetics because I was feeling too miserable to covet it and Claire took note of that. Maybe you have an older sister. I hope that yours is as sweet as mine. Claire came to me, where I was sitting on the end of the couch surrounded by my gifts, but not noticing them at all. She handed me a small box, wrapped in orange.

            "Here, Amy. You must have missed this one."

            I looked from the weird color of the paper, up to my sister's face. She was smiling. Then my gaze turned back to the little parcel on my lap. A white tag with spindly writing on it proclaimed

"Amy"

It only took one rip to remove the paper. A black velvet box. I opened it and found inside a necklace made of little bones. I gasped. The bones looked whitest white against the ebony of the box. It was almost horrid. It was almost beautiful. It was perfect.

            I looked up at my sister again, and I think my eyes sparkled.

            "Thank you! Thank you so much!" I choked out. The tears were coming again, but these very very different tears. "How did you know what would make me happy?" I asked, as I took the freakish trinket out of the box to hang it on my neck. It contrasted against my olive green plaid pajamas horribly. And I loved it.

            "I...I didn't!" Claire answered in a whisper that was almost a gasp. I saw that a small frown creased her forehead. Mommy and Daddy's chatter had gone quiet. And I knew.

***

            I found out later that we were one of the first houses that Jack had visited. As the night wore on he began to cause much more of a commotion. Maybe he got too excited. Maybe parents started waking up. Maybe other children opened their gifts the moment they found them, before they could be mysteriously replaced. Maybe they were less happy than I at the sight of what they found there.

            I heard on the News the next day how a mysterious stranger had been impersonating Santa Clause and leaving horrendous and macabre gifts under the trees of 'innocent and unsuspecting children'. Armed forces were called. Cannons were fired. Christmas was nearly cancelled.

            And due to my late night reading session, I slept through all of it.

            But this was a small and obscure news show. Most of the others chose to ignore the whole incident. People wanted to forget and move on, enjoying the replacement gifts that the real Santa had brought. Claire, who was watching with me, said it was a nightmare that had passed, then refused to speak about it again. Even I found myself wondering if it had all been a dream. But I still had my necklace. And I still had Jack's smile, tucked away in my mind and heart.

But I still never told a solitary person of what I saw that night until now.