Prologue:
I sighed heavily.
This was all my fault
I am to blame
I have broken the truce
I should be ashamed
But I acted in the right
though it took him too long
The Boy learned his lesson
Do not get me wrong
But now I am in jail
Or at least, going to it
I cannot believe
My christmas was ruined-
By my own rash actions
Mourning my ruined tale
And now I am being shipped
To the one and only Ghost Jail...
But things seem brighter
As I peel an orange
things should be better
Come Christmas...
"Crud," I whisper, staring out the window at the merriment being made outside of my barred window. I noticed a little boy stringing ornaments on an old, withered christmas tree, humming happily as he went about his task,"I hate oranges..."-
