A War On Christmas

It was the night before Christmas, and all through the house,
the Samelsons prepared for their last Christmas bout.
Little Sam shadow boxed with her earbuds in tight
“If there can be only one”,
she said between sweat and clenched teeth,
“then let me win this fight.”
Just down the hall, no more than 2 doors down,
her brother practiced the same, as he had the last month.
He ducked and he rolled, a curious sight,
all in preparation for a Christmas Eve night.
The Samelsons weren’t normal, as one could plainly see,
and their traditions drew comments universally.
Mom and dad laid together once more before time.
There was no use preparing – they were well past their prime.

“Oh, Gerald!” Martha said between rosy cheeks, “Oh how our children have grown!”
And Gerald replied, “I can hear little Sam preparing for our throne!”
Soon it was time, and soon all would see,
what the Samelsons had prepared beside their Christmas tree.
“There’s no use pretending that the town doesn’t know.” Gerald spoke to his family before the event.
“So let’s come out swinging, really put on a show!”
And with a nod, the Samelsons ran from all corners and doorways:
kicks, teeth, and jabs.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clutter
as Sam crashed through the window, pummeling her brother.
The final showdown had quickly commenced
for Gerald and Martha died early in the mess.
Away from the window, they flew with a flash
and as fast as it started, Sam ended all with a deep gash.
The moon, on the breast of the new fallen snow,
twinkled in crimson and her brother’s fading glow.

As Sam stood heaving, the last Samelson alive
she watched as her neighbors and schoolmates arrived.
Blue and red strobes, metal cuffs but no bow
Sam was the victor to a throne she’d never know.
As her head was pushed down and inside a car
she stared at her classmates and a sky full of stars.
She spoke not a word, said nothing at all,
only that she would not speak, and to give her lawyer a call.
Uniforms sprang to their sleighs, gave each other the signal
and away they cops flew from the town’s impromptu vigil.
But they all heard Sam exclaim, as she was driven out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all,
They put up a helluva fight!”


Author: antbrov

Fiction | Magical Realism | Introspective Write > Edit > Hate > Learn > Write...

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