What Santa Did

Sarah faced resolutely away from her snickering classmates, praying that her mother's car would pull up before any tears fell.

"What a baby," declared Lindsey. "Look how upset she is just because Santa doesn't exist."

As usual Lindsey's statement was backed by murmurs of approval and agreement from her elite cabal of chosen friends. Sarah wrapped her arms tightly around her midsection and stayed silent. It didn't matter what they thought, as long as she didn't cry in front of them. That she'd never be able to live down.

Of course she knew that Santa wasn't real. She was 12, she'd known it for years. But just because he wasn't a real man didn't mean Lindsey and her friends had to be so rude about it, taunting the younger kids with the knowledge and scoffing at anyone who ever mentioned him.

It had definitely been a mistake to argue with them though, and especially to give a small, impassioned speech on the spirit of Santa and how he lived inside them all. Lindsey and her little gang had been mocking her mercilessly since then.

"Did you just find out?" teased Georgia, Lindsey's first in command.

Sarah bit back the urge to speak. They'd only twist whatever she said. But Georgia didn't give up and her voice was closer when she spoke again.

"Is that why you're so upset? You didn't know?"

"Go away," said Sarah.

"Is it? For real?"

Sarah could feel Georgia just behind her and she finally snapped.

"Shut up! You're all such...such bitches."

"Oooo!"

"Did you hear what she said?"

"I'm going to get a teacher."

Everyone's voices were crowding around her, hemming her in. Sarah bit down on her lip hard, knowing she was only seconds away from breaking down in front of them all. She looked up frantically and almost moaned in relief when she spotted her mother's car.

"Little baby Sarah," came a sing-song voice right next to her ear, but Sarah was already sprinting down the sidewalk to the car.

---

Even half awake, with no light except the tiny LED on her computer's power cord, Sarah knew there was someone else in the room. They weren't moving or breathing audibly, she couldn't see anything, but she knew. Somehow the air was thicker, permeated with another's presence.

She had been turning over but froze when the realization hit her and then stayed motionless and silent. Her field of vision was limited, mostly blocked by her comforter, but she lay there, staring at the ceiling, until a vision coalesced in her mind's eye of a large, dark shape sitting in her desk chair.

She didn't want to speak. That would make everything real, while right now it might all be in her head. Yet there was no way she could lay there without moving or speaking for much longer. She had no choice but to sit up and face the intruder.

It took another few minutes of shaky, shallow breaths before Sarah was able to follow through and sit up.

"Hello Sarah. I know it's terribly late but I'm glad you're up," said a man's voice.

Just as she'd imagined there was a large shadowed figure in her chair. She should have screamed out for her parents, but when he spoke a strange detached feeling came over her. Hearing and seeing a strange man in her bedroom made this feel even more unreal.

"I-I-I'm awake," she half-whispered, though she barely believed in what she was saying.

"I understand some of the girls at school have been giving you a hard time?"

The voice was calm, even friendly sounding, but Sarah shivered and felt her palms and underarms grow clammy. If this was a dream it wasn't one she was enjoying.

"Yes," she admitted uneasily. Could this be real, something Lindsey had planned?

"That's a shame. Children have always been cruel — heaven knows, nobody knows that better than I do." He sounded as if he were smiling as he spoke, but his voice grew more serious again as he continued. "They've always been mean, but those classmates of yours are something else, Sarah, they really are."

Sarah nodded, somewhere between frozen with fear and disbelief. The bulky form shifted in its chair, leaning forward towards her, and Sarah though she saw the glint of something reflecting off of glass for a moment.

"The question now is, what are we going to do about it?"

Her teeth chattered as Sarah shivered again. This time she was disturbed not by him but by the images that flashed through her head, picture of Lindsey crying and bleeding, crumpled on the ground, pleading up at Sarah. She couldn't tell if these were her ideas or if he was showing her these pictures by some means.

"We can't just let her go around saying those things, can we? It's not right."

"No, it's not right," echoed Sarah. She was still frightened, still wondering if she ought to pinch herself, but a strange energy began coursing through her, warming her cheeks and making her heart strum louder, thawing out the bonds that constrained her.

"Good. I knew you were a good girl."

---

The next day was clear and cold at recess. In the warmer months most of the kids in her grade stood clumped in small groups, joking and gossiping, leaving the playground equipment and games to the younger kids, but on a day like today they were happy to abandon that veneer of maturity and run around like carefree second graders to keep warm.

Sarah joined in the group that was dividing up into two teams to play a game of tag, ignoring the disdainful looks Lindsey and her friends shot her. In fact when Georgia ended up as one of the team captains Sarah went so far as to stare her pleadingly every time she selected a teammate, ensuring there was no chance she'd end up on their team.

She was a little nervous, not expecting to have to do this so soon, yet filled with an unexpected thrill. When the countdown ended she took off running with the rest of her team. Lindsey's team, as usual, were the cops meant to chase Sarah's team down until the game was over and they switched.

Sarah took care to keep close to Lindsey, pretending to nearly trip or slow down just enough to make Lindsey think she almost had her before surging forward, heading towards the far end of the playground where there was a large play structure.

Most of the other sixth graders steered clear of it - it was too easy to get cornered by two or more cops - but Sarah led Lindsey towards it.

"You're going down, you big baby," called out Lindsey.

Sarah smiled and took off around the play structure. As she ran by it she looked down and caught a glimpse of a red sleeve and a flash of reflected sunlight.

Moments later Lindsey shrieked loudly and pitched sideways, tripping over her own feet and landing heavily on the concrete surface. Sarah was close enough to hear a sickening snapping sound.

She came to a stop and whirled around, hurrying back to where Lindsey was curled on the ground. It was very much like the vision she'd seen, though thankfully with less blood. Lindsey was crying and cradling her right arm. She looked up at Sarah and tried to say something, but her sobs made her unintelligible. It was all Sarah could to hold back from smirking in triumph.

"Oh my god! What happened?"

By now Georgia and a couple of other girls were there. Across the playground Sarah could see their teacher, Mr. Spiske, running towards them with his phone held up to his ear.

Finally what Lindsey was saying became more understandable.

"There was a man! In the tunnel!"

Some of the kids gasped and a few of them ran over to the play structure to peer inside the plastic tube Lindsey had indicated.

"What do you mean?" asked Georgia as she crouched down next to her friend. "Oh no, Lindsey, your arm."

"He was crawling out to get me," said Lindsey through sobs. She looked up towards Sarah, asking, "You saw him too, right?"

Sarah shook her head.

"You had to have!"

Sarah shrugged her shoulders and shook her head more vehemently.

"I didn't see anyone. What did he look like?"

By that time Mr. Spiske had reached them, along with all of their classmates, but was busy on the phone summoning help.

"He...he had a big, white beard and a r-red sweater," hiccuped Lindsey.

"A white beard?" repeated Georgia.

"There's nobody there. We looked," said one of their classmates.

Lindsey sniffled loudly and Georgia drew back a little. "He was there," Lindsey insisted.

"Did he have wire rimmed spectacles too, like Santa?" said Sarah, her voice pitched low so Mr. Spiske wouldn't hear.

"Well he was!" Lindsey exclaimed.

Sarah's eyes widened in delighted surprise. Still crouching next to Lindsey, Georgia snorted delicately.

"What? It was Santa?" asked another girl disbelievingly. All of the sixth graders were exchanging amused looks with each other.

"No, I m-meant he was wearing glasses," said Lindsey.

"Like Santa?" asked Georgia, but Lindsey was crying again. Georgia shook her head and stood up. She glanced at Sarah and rolled her eyes.

Mr. Spiske took Georgia's place on the ground next to Lindsey while another teacher began herding everyone back to the other side of the playground.

"Are we gonna keep playing?" asked one of the boys.

"Sure," answered Georgia. "But Sarah's on my team now. You losers need to find somebody else!"

---

This story is for @themarkymark's Writing Prompts Contest week 3 theme: "You wouldn't believe what I caught Santa doing."