#1 Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

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When I came to, I felt nothing at first. My head was light and as if under a spell, I couldn't open my eyes. I was too tired to. Slowly, I tried to judge my surroundings by feel. Moving was a bad idea as a sharp pain shot up my right arm and exploded in my head in response.

I let out a strung out squeal and whimpered helplessly. The pain in my arm was excruciating. It was unlike anything I had ever felt, worse than all I ever suffered at the hands of my aunty Lara.

A vision of my aunt scolding me instinctively brought tears to my eyes. I hated that my aunty Lara might have been right after all. If she saw me now, she would waste no time clucking her tongue and reaching for the cane. Worse, if she knew my plans to get rich and leave her behind, but instead I was now lying half-dead in God-knows-where, she would deem me too foolish to even be flogged and simply shove me into the henhouse.

The events on the day I ran away was vivid in my mind. My aunty Lara had woken up angry and was in a foul mood the whole day. I had been worried because the mood that wouldn't get anything done, shut out neighbours and earn me bruises was ill-timed. It was only days to Christmas and the chances that I would get gifts were slim. She hadn't appreciated my audacity to point it out- and I paid for it.

I was badly beaten. Wailing, I literally rushed out the door and kept running, ignoring the neighbours that had come round to find out what was happening. They called after me, but I wasn't going back into the house; not when aunty Lara was still charged.

I had spent the whole day wandering around in a new, unfamiliar neighbourhood. I was hungry, tired and almost sick due to the harmattan. I luckily stumbled upon a bench that had been nailed to the ground in front of a closed stall and decided to pass the night on it. I dozed off immediately only to be startled awake by someone nudging me gently.

I met the face of a smiling, middle-aged man, squatting beside me.
'Where is your mother?' the kind man asked.

'She's dead' I blurted. I wasn't surprised when I saw the usual expression of pity on his face, the same reaction it elicited from anyone I told. He gave me a once-over, taking in my wounds and quickly continued, 'But what is a strong boy like you doing out here?'

I rolled my eyes. I am a strong boy alright. 'I don't want to go back to my aunty. She's wicked.'

To my surprise, he didn't reprimand me or look displeased at all. 'Do you want to make money then? Be a big boy and buy whatever you want?'
My eyes grew wider and wider with his words.

Was he promising me a life of a king? A life where I could call my own shots and do whatever I wanted? It was too good to be true. I shouldn't be talking to strangers.

He must have noticed my apprehension because next he dipped his hand in his pocket and withdrew a wad of cash. He took out a one-thousand naira note and thrust it towards me. I took the money, searching his face for anything that would give away any other wrong intentions, but he had a kind smile plastered on his face the whole time.

His brows furrowed in curiosity. 'Is that not enough my boy? Would you like more?'

I nodded.

'Good. Come with me to my office. Very busy man, myself' he said, pointing to himself. 'Come and make money, Mr--what is your name, my boy?'

'Precious.'

'Aha! Mr Precious.' he exclaimed. I kept nodding, unsure how to respond. No one had ever treated me like I were significant before, yet alone called me mister, but here this man had treated me with respect.

Christmas was indeed the best time of year and I was convinced I had met Father Christmas himself.

Drawing up to his full height, his smile not faltering once, he warned, 'Let's be discreet. Follow me.'

And with that, he turned on his heels and was gone. It took me a while to come to my senses before I dashed after him.

The bravest decision I ever made indeed. I had earned a gunshot for it. Was it Christmas yet or had it passed? How long was I out?

Where is Father Christmas?

I managed to open my eyes after a long time of just lying on my back and weeping. To my surprise, I wasn't alone in the little, dimly lit room.

She sat with her back to me- the girl who was the cause of all  my problems. She was hunched over, hugging her knees to her chest. On the dirty floor beside her lay two other kids, fast asleep. In spite of my condition, anger welled up in me again.

'You-' I choked. I was barely audible but she must have heard me because she turned to look. She had the same disgusted expression on her face.

'Just stay dead' she shot and looked away. 'Or I'll make sure you're dead myself.'