Christmas Story

"Go to bed you little shit!"  Is screamed at the shivering husk beneath the blanket. Shadows lurch from the windows over the mound of fear. It stands there, waiting. Thick silence lies on the room. Understanding she won't get a reaction, she flings an action man at the the wall, shattering it. "Look what you made me do" Action man's thighs fall onto the covers and shimmer as the fear ripples through them, transported from the blanket. "Got to go to sleep. Got to go to sleep" Is chanted from beneath. "Santa won't come!". Moans and groans echo from the next room, agreement and all "Yes, yes. Right there". He creeps into the bathroom and opens the medicine cabinet. Grabbing an orange cylindrical case. 'Sleeping pills' he swigs them. Thump. Frothing at the mouth and spasming, the infant struggles from the door "M-m-mom.... H-help" He chokes through an enclosed throat. Hands tense in between motions as he claws at the doorknob, sliding down the smooth exterior because he can't grasp it. Then he stops. Diluted eyes stare at the ceiling, one pupil drifting slightly to the left. Incomprehensible groans whisp from his slightly parted lips. Corrupted mind and shattered soul. Knitwear covered in drool.