Holy guacamole, 4 more days left!

TRIGGER WARNING FOR ABUSE, THIS IS NOT A HAPPY STORY

And I forgot to update a couple days ago so I double updated so if you haven't seen the other chapter just click the previous button.

Chapter 8: The Little Boy That Santa Forgot

In the street he envies all those lucky boys,
Then wanders home to last year's broken toys.
I'm so sorry for that laddie,
He hasn't got a daddy,
The little boy that Santa Claus forgot.

"Worthless!" The sound of glass smashing to the floor echoes through the room. "Weak!"

Underneath the crashes and the screaming is the whimpering of a small eight year old boy.

"Dad, please no-," He cries.

"What did you just call me?!" Another whiskey glass is thrown to the ground.

"Da—I mean Sir—" The little boy stutters, "I'm sorry, I meant Sir."

"You damn right you did you stupid piece of shit!"

"Grant!" The little boy wails as another shard imbeds itself into his skin, "Grant!"

"Tommy!" An older boy's voice calls out from another part of the house.

"Shut up! Christian, get a hold of your brothers."

The whole time Senator Ward had been hurling whiskey glasses at his youngest son, Christian Ward had been standing in the corner, seemingly immune to the screams of his two younger brothers. At the sound of his father's drunken order, his head immediately perked up.

"Yes sir." Even being his father's favorite didn't give him the permission needed to call him 'father'. Not that their father could really be considered one anyway.

Xx 12 Days of Skyeward xX

The next day, Tommy and Grant walked to the bus station that would bring them to school. Christian wasn't with them because he had his license and could drive. Neither their parents nor Christian ever drove them to school, wanting to have as little to do with them while sober as possible.

"Tommy," Grant stoops down to his little brother's level and trails his finger gently over the cut marring his forehead, "If people at school ask you how you got that cut, tell them that it was an accident. Tell them that you just tripped and fell down the stairs. Can you do that for me?"

Normally he wouldn't even have to tell him to do this, Tommy almost never was hurt. He was their mother's favorite, their mother's baby, but since she had left to go on a business trip she hadn't been there to prevent her husband and her eldest son from taking out all their anger on him.

When their mother had told them she was leaving for the week, Grant had scoffed. Oh yes, she and her co-worker were off on "business". Part of him was jealous of her leaving, she had a means of escaping her monstrous husband. The other part of him was angry and afraid. Angry that she was able to leave him and Tommy when she knew what happened behind closed doors, and afraid of what his father and Christian would do to them now that she was away.

"Why Grant?"

"Because if you tell them our little secret, we lose the game." Grant faked a small smile to ease Tommy's suspicions. Yes, he got been abused by his father and Christian, but still being young, Tommy didn't fully understand the severity of their situation. Grant was fourteen now and was able to lie and hide for the both of them.

"Okay." Grant breathed a sigh of relief. "But Grant, what are you going to tell them?" He points to the junction between Grant's shoulder and neck where bruises peak through his shirt if he turns a certain way.

"Don't worry about me, they'll never know. It's out little secret."

But how Grant desperately wanted to tell someone, anyone, of their situation. He knew that at least one of his teachers over the years noticed the frequent injuries and the curt excuses that his parents had always told, but even if they said something, Senator Ward would cover it up with his money and power.

And if the news ever did manage to get out, Tommy and Grant would be separated and become wards of the state (he can already see the headlines). He had heard the stories of how the foster-care system was like and he didn't want that for himself or his little brother. Plus, their father and Christian had made it clear what they would do to them if they ever told someone. Grant shuddered at the thought and outwardly blamed it on the December chill.

Christmas was upon them and the smell of the season was in the air. Mentally he prepared himself for the onslaught of political guests that would be arriving in a few weeks' time and the questions that they would ask.

"What are you asking Santa for this year? A young man such as yourself must be asking for something entertaining."

At which Grant would use that year's newest fad as his answer. Last year he said cassette tapes, the year before that he said sneakers, and the year before that he said something relating to Pokémon.

After he would blush and politely tell the politician what he "wanted", the politician would look at his father and say, "What a nice young man you have, you certainly raised him right." Grant's father would pat his back and plaster on a smile.

But those things were never what Grant really wanted. What he wanted was to be safe. To be loved. To have an actual home.

Grant envied all the other boys. When everyone in his class still believed in Santa, he was biting his tongue to prevent himself from blurting out the truth that Santa didn't exist. Because if he did, surely he would have come and saved him and Tommy. Right? As time went on and their belief faded, they would all talk about what they were asking their parents for Christmas. Whenever someone asked Grant what he wanted (which was rare, Grant barely had any friends) he would just give them the same answer he was going to give the politicians later at his family's party.

When the bus finally arrives, Tommy and Grant quickly climb on. Tommy is summoned over to his group of friends who immediately ask him what he'll be asking Santa for.

"Santa" always got a present for Tommy, Grant and their mother made sure of it. But just because Tommy got something didn't mean he or Christian got something. But he was okay with that, as long as Tommy was as happy as he could be. Christian, not so much. As soon as their mother turned her back, he was onto Tommy, punishing him as if he was the reason why he didn't receive anything.

Gramsy had always gotten them presents, Grant is pretty sure she was one of the only people that actually gave a damn about them. Unfortunately, two years ago she passed away. Her absence only made the void in Grant's heart grow bigger.

As Tommy sat with his friends, Grant moved to sit in the back of the bus alone.

Grant was always glad that Tommy was so different from him, both at home and out. Tommy was outgoing, he was fun to be around, he was loved, and he was everything that he was not. But that was okay too, because it meant that Tommy had a chance. He had a chance at life, he had a chance to get out without raising too many questions.

Above the loud chattering of the other children, Grant can hear one of Tommy's friends exclaim, "Tommy! How did you get that cut?"

With bated breath, Grant strains his ears to hear his little brother's answer.

"Oh, I fell down the stairs." Tommy says nonchalantly.

"Did it hurt?"

"A little, but not anymore."

Grant sighs in relief.

Xx 12 Days of Skyeward xX

The day passes by like any other day does; slowly and painstakingly. For every Christmas/holiday—based question asked by his teachers, Grant looks at the clock to see if any time has passed.

"Do you have any plans for the holidays, Grant?"

"No, I think we're just staying home and spending some family time this year." We're going to hide between the walls and hope no one drinks too much.

"Grant, what would you like for Christmas this year?"

"I'm not sure yet, there's a lot to choose from." For my family to become a family.

On the bus ride home, Grant listens in on the conversations of the other kids. Some conversations are between younger ones who wonder what kind of cookie they should leave Santa and others are between kids nearer to his age who wonder if their parents have gotten the hint of what they want.

When they reach their bus stop, Grant grabs Tommy's hand and they walk together to their perfect house filled with perfect Christmas decorations.

If you weren't looking too closely you would think that the broken whiskey decanters and crystal tumblers were pieces of pretty ice décor.