Page 42 - My FlipBook

Sarah Sues Santa – P.J. Leonard

A twig snapped behind her. She bolted away like a frightened rabbit, weaving through the trees, not
daring to look back. She tripped over a tree root and landed face first into a pile of fallen pine
needles.
"Ow!" Sitting up and wiping the needles away from her sore face, she looked around. Nobody or
nothing else was there. Straightaway Sarah felt silly for running. This place...it's making me feel
weird. Why did I come this way? I should've walked around the edge of the forest! Why would a
postbox be in the middle of a forest anyway? Why...
She peered through the trees. In the distance was a patch of light. An opening. And there, in the
middle of the opening, stood something tall, red and white.
Sarah froze on the spot. A cold chill swept through her, even though there was no wind between the
trees.
"Santa?" She whispered, her breath rising in a stream of smoke.
The figure didn't move. Or did it? It was too far away to make out. She forced one foot in front of
the other, as though her feet were made of ice. Gradually, she felt her limbs thaw, and without
thinking about it she was running towards the opening. She burst out of the trees and into the
blinding white light of the snow. She blinked, shielding her eyes with her hand.
"Santa?" She called. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she saw the figure again. Wait...that’s not
Santa. It was a tall red postbox. The top of it was covered in a thick cap of snow. Pulling a ticket out
of her pocket, she stepped forward. At last. The final trip. Time to meet Santa Claus.
Nothing she'd seen over these four Christmas Days made sense. Rich people who got everything,
poor people who got nothing, orphans who didn't even get a Christmas, and a boy who came from a
family that loved Christmas but forced him out of the family. What Mr. Vekil had said about
Christmas still echoed in her mind...Christmas is a lie...where was Santa when I needed him the
most? For a moment her hand hovered over the slot. Did she want to even mee Santat? Was she
ready? What if she didn't get the answer she wanted?
The key to the orphanage weighed heavily in her pocket, as though it were pulling her back. She
took a deep, cold breath and slipped the ticket into the letterbox.
It was different this time. Instead of the light pouring out of the door, it streamed out of the
letterbox like a golden smoke. It filled the opening with a bright, butter-yellow light. It was so
bright that Sarah had to shut her eyes. She felt the earth under her feet move, but she didn't dare
look: the light burned a hot pink though her eyelids. And then, quite suddenly, the light went out
with a snap.

Page 42