As winter closed in on the small town, Otis grew weaker and weaker. People weren't eating outside as much anymore, so it was harder to swipe food off of plates. The dumpsters were just as full, but as the wind chilled, it was harder for him to stay out and rummage. He began to steal food more frequently from stores, and it was getting harder and harder for him to run away when he got caught.

Luckily, with the holidays approaching, the shop manager in town offered him more work. Otis had stopped coming in every day until the holidays begun, hoping he would be able to find something for him.

"Holy shit, Otis...You look horrible...What have you been doing to yourself?"

"Nothin...I'm fine."

"Yeah, you look it. You been sick or somethin'?"

"No..."

"You just ain't been eatin'."

He looked up at the older man from under the bill of his cap.

"That's what I thought. Why?"

Otis shrugged. "Ain't got the money."

"Shit, kid. You coulda said somethin'."

"Don't ask for things from people. Only gets you in trouble."

"Boy...You've gotta trust someone in your life. Don't you get lonely?"

Otis shook his head. It was a lie; of course he was lonely. He was utterly miserable.

He sighed. "My wife'll fix you up a plate of somethin' for lunch when you work, alright?"

"No."

"Why?"

"I can't pay you or give you anything. I don't...I don't have anything."

"You don't have to pay us, son. You're gonna die if you don't get back on track."

"No, I...I can't...I can't, please..." Otis's voice began to shake. It made him nervous to have someone do something for him. They always wanted something in return, even if they said they didn't. If they said they didn't, they were lying, and would take it from you later. Whether you wanted to or not...

"Son, at least let us give you some groceries."

"NO...No, I..."

"Relax...Relax...Boy, somethin' real bad musta happened to you to be actin' like you are..."

Otis looked away, ashamed.

"Alright...Alright. I won't push about it no more, okay?"

Otis nodded.

"You can work for me tomorrow?"

Otis nodded again.

"Alright. You take care of yourself, you hear?"

Otis turned on his heels after nodding once more at the man. He stalked the highway that night, killing anyone who crossed his path.

A young couple. Teenagers, just like himself, who had stopped to help what they assumed to be an injured school mate.

Another young couple, this time in their late 20's. The woman was pregnant. They had just gotten their paychecks cashed from work, as they had a large amount of cash in their wallets.

A young man coming home from work, also with a freshly cashed paycheck. He worked at a fast food restaurant. Otis had seen him before, when he was scrounging the dumpster.

He left that night with a few new pairs of clothing, a thick denim jacket, and about 1,000 dollars in cash. He wouldn't have to worry for a while, again. He didn't like killing so many at once. It was a huge risk of getting caught, but he was desperate, hungry, and cold.

He took the youngest woman back to his apartment with him, using her for a good time later on. He stocked the apartment with canned goods, things he knew wouldn't spoil. He would have to severely limit his food intake, but he could do it. He had done it before.

He went into the store the next day, wearing his new denim jacket that guarded him nicely from the breeze. He had slept well that night. He had had sex with the young woman's body, and had a decent meal for the first time in weeks. He felt good.

"Hey! Goodmorning! You got some light in your eyes today, boy!"

Otis couldn't help but smile. "Yeah. I guess..."

He worked all day for the old man, dreading walking home alone.

Now, as the holidays approached, there were happy families everywhere. Shop windows were decorated with smiling faces and twinkling lights.

It hurt Otis deeply somewhere. He longed for that connection. He longed to feel the love of a family. He longed for the childhood he missed, ached so, so much for the affection he saw in front of him. Parents scooping up their children and giving them sweet kisses on the cheek, holding their hands as they walked along the busy sidewalks, giving them warm hugs. He had never had that. Only cold, brutal hands laid on him maliciously. He watched the children pointing excitedly in shop windows, pointing at toys they wanted for Christmas.

Christmas. That was an entirely new concept to him, too.

He had read about it in the newspapers he had been beaten with; how children lined up to sit on a fat old man in a red suit's lap. He was called Santa Claus, and apparently, he brought them gifts. The good children.

He remembered, ashamedly, when he had asked his parents about Christmas. That was when he found out when his birthday was.

"Ohhh, yeah. You were my Christmas gift 8 years ago! What a fucking awful gift! I should take you back." She laughed cruelly. "You were born two days before Christmas. That was the worst fucking day of my life! Presents?! You want PRESENTS?!" She lowered her voice, feigning sweetness. "Well, only good little boys and girls get presents. Are you a good boy? NO! You're the fucking son of SATAN! You little red eyed, white freak fucker!" She had beaten him so cruelly that night, not that any night was different, it just seemed to have more sting to it for some reason.

Otis sighed, shaking the memory off of him. He hated these children, resented them. He was so jealous of the love they received. Love he had wanted for so long and love they took for granted.

That night, he went home and sat alone, hearing the sound of children singing Christmas carols through his window.