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He moved his sack to one side as he looked at me scowling. “Don’t scowl dear; you’re too beautiful for that,” Santa Claus laughed. “Where have you been?” I asked. “Well my dear, I’ve been emptying my sack around the world,” he responded. He moved towards the tree, his stubby hands grasping the cookies as he began to grab the presents from the bag. Each present he pulled out, he ran his hand over the packaging causing a golden glow to appear as he made each present magical. I was mesmerised by the sight even though I had seen it a few times before. “So my dear, how have you been this year?” Santa mumbled with a mouth full of cookies. I stroked the ends of my long brown hair, “So-so really, my youngest daughter started school this year.” “Ahh, young Emily, she’s a very good child, number one on my nice list in this household,” Santa laughed. “Oh yeah, she’s number one?” I asked with a playful giggle. I uncrossed my legs, letting him get a glimpse up my gown before crossing them again.. Lunging towards it he was about to throw it when Psyche held him back and took the chair away from him. His shoulders drooped and he no longer seemed like a man who could take on the world – just an old man who was about to face up to a dark and buried secret from his storied life. He stumbled and then sat down on Psyche’s bed heavily. Rubbing a shaking hand across his temples he began to speak ‘Your mother was such a fragile woman, not only in appearance but also emotionally.’ Psyche stood over her father and asked his stooped figure ‘What has that got to do with Cybil?’ He raised a pleading hand and said ‘Please listen to me. I’ve already lost one daughter and don’t want to lose another.’ Psyche nodded and turned and looked at Melissa who was tip toeing out of the room and said ‘Stay Meme, I want you to hear all of it as my psychiatrist.’ Melissa felt a bit uncomfortable but decided to be a silent audience and not judge Harold by her own past experiences. She leaned against the.
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