The Sound

There.

He heard it again.

That damn clattering no one else heard. Was he going crazy? He remembered hearing it once a year, always on the same night. No matter how little he slept the days before, he always woke up when the noise started.

His parents still didn't believe him. They never had when he asked them if they'd heard it too. Maybe he was just going crazy like they said every time he mentioned it. This year, he was going to prove them wrong.

He could still hear the sound. Whoever was in his house was eating now. It made him a little mad thinking about intruders going through their belongings and eating food from them. He got up, grabbed his baseball bat and creeped out of his room down into the living room. He snuck up behind the man and struck him on the head, hard.

For over a minute, he stood completely still, too scared to breathe but ready to strike again if the guy got up.

At last, he was sure he'd knocked him out hard enough. He turned the lights on and decided to call the cops. He turned over just as he picked up the phone to make sure the man was still there. There was milk everywhere and bits of cookies.

WHY DID HE HAVE TO KILL SANTA? WHY OH WHY?

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