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..."-