Hey! Wow it's been a long time since I posted anything on here. Sorry for that, but everything has been so crazy and hectic. I've had some really down and awful moments since February, which was when I last updated, but now I'm back on track and I'm gonna try and post again!

This is a little Christmas story that I've come up with. It probably won't be too long, but I hoping it'll be really cute yet angsty for you all :) Who doesn't love a bit of Logan angst?

I hope you like it! And remember, I don't own Big Time Rush

"Thank you Annabel for that lovely speech about Santa's reindeer"

The middle-aged teacher clapped the small, blonde haired girl with ringlets as she skipped to the back of the class, extremely happy with what she had just shared with the rest of her class and the older children.

The other teacher in the room looked around the sea of students, trying to decide who should be next in the line of speakers. A few weeks ago, Miss. Williams, the latter, much younger teacher, approached the elder woman in the room with a request. She had thought that her second grade class were extremely loud and hard to handle. So, she came up with a way for them to channel that energy into something positive. Well she hoped. They all had a few lessons where they wrote something about Christmas. It wasn't hard for a group of seven and eight year olds to talk about Christmas, especially since the very first snow fall usually brought cries of "it's snowing so it's nearly Christmas!" even when it had started to snow mid October. This was Minnesota after all.

Anyway, the teacher had then gone round the staffroom, asking if her students could perform their speeches, poems, plays or whatever it may be, to their class. No one had wanted to take on all the extra stress, apart from Mrs. Turner who had a 6th grade class. She welcomed the idea, telling how her pupils may have needed a break since she too often had to slam a book down on her desk, just to wake about half of them up. The younger teacher was delighted that her students may actually be able to put their loud mouths to good use.

So that's where they were now. Already, most of the second graders had been up to the front, taking their turn in describing what Christmas was all about for them and what they most enjoyed. Of course, the majority had talked about presents and snow and then more presents. The teachers sighed at what today's youth were becoming.

The last boy to step up to the plate was a contrast against his previous classmates. Instead of confident, loud and pushy, he was rather small, not only in stature but his whole aura screamed scared to death. He was a timid little thing, shy and extremely quiet. When Miss. Williams had suggested this project, she hadn't thought about her quietest and most introverted student. Looking at how his lip quivered and his brown orbs were glistening slightly, she thought that maybe she should have pardoned him from having to do this. But then she thought about the fairness towards the rest of the class and realised he would have to do it otherwise she would have a million complaints shouted at her by some very bossy 7 year olds.

3 sixth graders near the back of the classroom whispered to each other during many of the presentations. However, as soon as this boy stepped up, their attention was fully on him. It wasn't just the fact that he looked like he may wet himself there and then, but also his appearance. It wasn't that he was dirty or anything, but he didn't have the best clothes. On his skinny little body, he wore an oversized, scruffy jumper with jeans that dragged along the floor; no doubt they were too long. He didn't look like a normal, fresh-faced second grader who smelt like juice. He looked...different.

Kendall was curious. He was always curious though. That and strong tempered, but hopefully nothing would provoke him to get into any fights today. That side of him only came out when someone hurt or threatened his friends or family. They were the only things he had and he vowed to protect them with everything he had. He would definitely do anything for them. Kendall was the leader. He gave advice, made up the plans and ultimately made sure that everyone was ok. His pep talks were both upbringing and confidence-filling. They could encourage even the most nervous of souls. The boy standing at the front couldn't have been more nervous if he tried. It was as if he had been stuck on a stage in front of the whole world, not just a small classroom. And that's why Kendall was curious, well one of the reasons anyway. He wanted to know more about the kid and why he was like this. Knowing him, he would soon find out.

James, you would have thought, would have thought about how badly dressed this boy was and how he should improve his appearance. He was obsessed himself with his own image and always carried a lucky comb with him wherever he went. However, the first thought that came into his head was the condition of the boy and how anyone let him get like that. He was bar far too skinny for his own good and his skin looked washed out. He wasn't healthy at all, anyone could tell that. James noticed the small things in everyone. Like how the boy's eyes drooped every so often as if he didn't get enough sleep or how he had smudges up his arms as if he hadn't had a good wash in a while. James was observant, and he wanted to know what had happened to this boy.

Carlos was the happy-go-lucky one. He almost always had a wide grin plastered to his face that lit up any room. He was a ray of sunshine that could never hold a grudge for more than ten minutes. He was simply...Carlos. He did crazy stunts because that's what he did and it wasn't for attention either. He did them because he thought the thrill was exhilarating and he also loved to make people laugh. His speciality was cheering people up. He built them up when they had been worn down. He always succeeded. He could pick up on moods. It was like a sixth sense, he could just read people. When he saw this tiny boy at the front, of course there was the obvious nervousness and anxiousness, but there were other emotions buried deep within his being. An inner turmoil of sadness, hurt, confusion, doubt and hopelessness raged. They weren't nice emotions to see in a 7-year-old boy and Carlos wanted to know why he was feeling the way he was.

The teachers both watched as the tiny, raven haired boy opened and closed his mouth several times, much like a fish underwater. However much in contrast, he looked like a fish out of water. He continuously looked down at the paper held tightly in his hands, the thin sheet crumpling under his grip.

"It's alright; just say what you've written. You can do it, Logan." the boy's teacher encouraged. He looked up at her and back down to the paper a few times. Logan glanced over the meaningless words he had written a few weeks ago about Christmas. He had written about the reindeer and the Christmas trees and the carolling. Most of all he had written about Santa.

So, with a deep breath that shook off of the walls of the classroom, he started.

"I-I-I like Christmas. I-I like t-the snow and the fun times w-we can have. Rudolph and his f-friends are all c-cool and the best is of c-course Santa" he paused, the stutter conveying his nervousness perfectly. "I l-like Santa...I-I-I-"again Logan paused.

With teary eyes he looked at his paper. At his work. He looked at his lies. And with one huge burst of spontaneous confidence, he crumpled what he held into a small ball and continued on without words, from his heart.

"...B-but...b-but Santa doesn't like me..." he chanced a glance at the people watching. The teacher's now wore troubled countenances and the rest of the students had their mouths open in shock at what the boy was saying.

"It's not like I don't get anything for Christmas. No, each year I do get one present that I really am grateful for." He continued. "But...it's never what I want. Not what I truly want. No one could give me what I really want. No one apart from Santa and yet, every year, he doesn't" he took a deep breath as he had everyone's astounded attention.

"And I think that these past few years, I've realised why. You see, Santa says that he only gives presents to the good boys and girls, right? And I haven't done anything...really bad...that I know of anyway. But, I reckon Santa doesn't want to have much of a naughty list. He wants to give everyone at least something, so that he doesn't seem bad or feel guilty even though those kids could be naughty."

"So, Santa gives those naughty children a present, but something that they don't want as much. That's what I get. And I don't know exactly what I've done, but I know I've done something. Otherwise...otherwise my mommy and daddy wouldn't have left me three years ago" he ignored the gasps that surrounded him. He knew they were gasping at how awful he had been and not because they were shocked that he thought that.

"I thought we were a good family. Mommy would always bake with me and sing me songs and brush my hair and give me kisses. Daddy would play with me and read to me with funny voices and he'd help me with my homework and he would give me absolutely giant bear hugs. They loved each other and they loved me and I loved them. Christmas was always really good with them. I remember it was one Christmas where they told me I was gonna have a little brother or sister and I was so excited! I couldn't wait to be a big brother!" no one missed the glint that lit up his eyes as he spoke, hope and excitement making him bubbly, lighting up his whole being.

"But then...I must have done something" his eyebrows crinkled in a small frown. "Mommy and Daddy stopped doing a lot of things with me. They went out a lot and bought things for the baby. We didn't have many rooms upstairs, so the baby would have to share with me. But then there was so much stuff for the baby that I had to move and sleep downstairs. I didn't mind too much, I mean, I still had somewhere to sleep."

"They didn't have much time for me" he continued "they always pushed me away and when I tried to ask them things, they told me to go away. They never baked or played or read or kissed or hugged me anymore. Whatever I did must have been extremely bad, so bad they didn't..." he sniffed, a small sob breaking past his quivering lips.

"They didn't love me anymore."

The teacher's were tearing up themselves at seeing the young boy so broken-hearted and believing such false things. Miss. Williams started to speak:

"Logan, how about we go outside for a little bit? We can sit and talk if you want, I just don't think that-"

"No!" Logan cried, clearly upset. "I'm not finished, I have to finish!"

He continued on calmer and no one stopped him.

"Then three years ago, they said they were going out to get a Christmas tree. I was so happy because then I thought we could decorate it together and become a family again and be happy. I waited up for them. I stayed up the latest I have ever stayed up before. I think when I looked at the clock it said it was almost 3am, but I just thought that they were taking their time in choosing the best tree so that we could have a great Christmas together."

"But..." he bit his lip, worrying on it between his lips. "...I guess I must have fallen asleep because I woke up the next morning. They still weren't there so I thought I would be a big boy and make myself some breakfast. I couldn't reach the cereal though and I knew I wasn't allowed to cook anything on my own, so I went to school and just had lunch there. They kept not being there and I had to keep just having lunch."

"I thought they were coming back and that for some reason they were just taking extra long. They would be back soon with a tree and we would be able to decorate it. I kept on waiting and I kept on thinking. My teachers asked if everything was ok and I said yes, we were getting a tree soon. Then after 6 days, there was a knock on the door. I didn't open it at first because I'm not meant to, but then it could have been my Mommy and Daddy and they may have forgotten their key. So I answered it."

"There was a woman at the door, with two men who were in uniforms and there was a cop car outside. She asked if I was Logan and if she could speak to my Mommy and Daddy. I said they were out getting a tree. She asked me how long they had been getting the tree and I told her. I thought it was weird that she stopped smiling slightly, after all they would be back soon. She asked if she could come inside, she said she was nice and would help me and that the two men were her friends, so I said yes. They went upstairs and found that Mommy and Daddy's clothes had gone. So had a lot of the baby stuff. I didn't know because I had slept downstairs waiting for them and hadn't gone into any of the rooms upstairs. That's when she knelt down to me and told me."

The small boy wiped a shaking hand over his eyes. "Mommy and Daddy had left. They hadn't just gone to get a tree and I had to go into a care home. I cried for ages. Why would they leave me? Then I remembered that I had done something wrong. I must have done a lot of wrong things to make them leave. I thought I could get a new Mommy and Daddy and a family. But no one wants me. No one takes me in. Whatever I did was so bad that no one wants me. They probably all know what I did and think I'm awful and don't deserve a family. Santa knows that as well. That's why he doesn't like me. That's why he never gives me what I want. Because of what I've done. I wish I knew what I did though. Then I wouldn't do it again and maybe I could get what I want." he paused as a fear silver droplets trickled from his cocoa brown eyes. With a trembling voice he said one last thing.

"Maybe I could get a family again."

The boy broke down into inconsolable sobs, moving his whole body with the effort, and everyone in the room felt their heart's shredding at the sight and at what they had just heard.

And as the boy was picked up and hastily taken out by his teacher, the three 6th graders only had one thought on their minds. Glancing at each other, they knew what they had to do.

They had to make Logan's wish come true.

Well there was the prologue! Did you like it? Please review and let me know what you think!

~swagUPwindowsDOWN :) x