"Dear Santa,

All I want this year is mummy and daddy back. I tried super super hard to be good and I really very was. Apart from the time when Aunty Emily threw mummy's favourite picture in the fire and I kicked her. But Aunty Emily is not very nice so do you think you could forgive me? Because even if I only get one present this year, I really want my parents back. Aunty Emily said that they left me with her because they didn't want me, but mummy said she would always love me. So maybe they just forgot me? Like the time I left donkey in the car? Because that mean they're gonna come back right? So if you get this letter Santa (because my daddy says the post office is very slow) can you make them come back faster cus Aunty Emily is super mean and she says mean things about mummy and daddy and she says I've been bad so I don't get any presents this year. But pretty pretty please, I just want my mummy and daddy.

Please bring them back.

Please Santa.

Sam,"

Shutting his eyes extra tight, Sam wished upon a star with all his might. Trying as hard as he could, loads more than before, he wished. He could smell mummy's perfume and hear daddy's clompy footsteps, so strongly they must be here! Santa had heard him!

Sam gasped and opened his eyes again, his head turning frantically from side to side, looking for his parents.

But they weren't there.

All that greeted his bright blue eyes were the four grey, bare walls of his Aunty Emily's guest room.

Santa didn't care.

Mummy and daddy weren't coming back.

There wasn't going to be a Christmas.

Sam cried himself to sleep that night, as he had done every single night before since his parents had been killed in a tragic car crash.

They had been driving back from the pet store, holding a tiny bundle of life which he had been begging for for years when a few teenagers joyriding crashed into them.

The teenagers had rich parents so they got off with a warning.

And had Sam lost his parents.

But that night he lost something much more precious.

He lost hope.

"I'm sorry I didn't save you Amy. Or you Rory. I'm sorry."

The doctor traced his fingers over the picture of them up on the screen.

It was from their last Christmas.

Rory was wearing an enormous wooly jumper, undoubtedly one of the most horrendous things the doctor had ever seen.

And Amy was there, her arm in Rory's and a huge grin on her face.

They were happy.

He liked seeing them happy.

"Come on you silly old man, stop dwelling."

The doctor chuckled and put them from his mind.

"Let's find an adventure, hey?"

And as he started the old girl up the radio turned itself on.

And all it said was:

"Please Santa."

And it was enough.