'Twas two days before Christmas

and throughout the mall,

many adults were buying

their children's gift haul.


Last minute ideas and

procrastination

made for a time that proved

to be stressful, not fun.


The place was busy,

from the top floor, to the ground.

And at the mall's center

is where Santa was found.


Wearing a red and white suit,

he stroked his white beard,

letting out “Ho ho ho!”

as the next small child neared.


While the line to see him

wasn't what you'd call long,

a few still came to him

and gave him that old song


whose lyrics told of what

they wanted to receive,

and hoped that Santa would

be kind enough to leave.


Not far from where Santa sat

was one Paige Murdock,

who stood in the Boscov's store

checking out their stock


of scarfs at a table

where all scarfs were on sale.

She chose one that was colored

a tan that was pale.


Paying for it, Paige then

walked out of the big store

and started to make her way

toward the mall's front door.


She looked to her left at

Santa in his big chair,

but saw no line before him.

No children were there.


“Huh,” she muttered to herself.

“Where'd all the kids go?

Could have sworn a line was there

not that long ago.”


Giving a small shrug,

she continued on her way

so she could head home with

what she had bought that day.


As she neared the exit,

she went by a Gamestop

that was filled with people

who were looking to shop


for a game or two that

they could give to someone

in hopes of that person

having digital fun.


At first, Paige just glanced in

as she went walking by.

But as she did, a box

on a shelf caught her eye.


She kept walking at first

with a curious stare

as she tried to study

what she was seeing there.


It took a few moments

before her pace began

to slow down with each step,

which allowed her to scan


the game box that she saw

so much more, carefully.

It wasn't long before

she went over to see


the box in question and

get a much closer look.

Once she stood before it,

she then reached down and took


the box that had grabbed her

attention from its shelf.

With it in her hand,

she smiled sadly to herself


as she looked at the art

and the logo that said

“World of Warcraft” above

an Elven woman's head.


Paige said not a word as

she stood in the game store

and just stared at the game box

for a minute more.


But while other customers

ignored her and talked,

in a beeline to Paige,

a store employee walked.


Once he was standing next

to her, the young man said,

“You looking for a game or

a gift card instead?”


“I'm just browsing,” Paige said

without looking at him,

her voice distant and tinged

with a tone slightly grim.


“Are you sure?” the man asked.

“We've got newer games that-”

“I'm sure,” Paige said curtly.

“And I don't want to chat.”


Giving Paige an irked look,

the man then walked away.

But alone was something

that she just wouldn't stay.


More than one employee

noticed her and came by

to see just what it was

that she might want to buy.


With preorder talk here

and some new games talk there,

it seemed she just couldn't

get them out of her hair.


Once she'd had enough,

she just blurted, “Go away!

Stop climbing up my ass

ev'ry second, OK?!”


Much to Paige's delight,

her outburst seemed to work,

though it undoubtedly made

her look like a jerk.


For the next minute or so,

she was left alone

with her thoughts as her mind

drifted into a zone.


But she was soon pulled out when

someone said to her,

“I didn't picture you

to be a game player.”


With a vexed sigh, she turned

her head with, “Goddammit!

How many times are you going

to push your shit-?”


A moment later, she saw

the one who had spoke.

Her eyes went a bit wide and

her train of thought broke.


Beside her was fat a man

dressed up as Saint Nick.

Surprised, she stammered,

“O-oh, I'm sorry!” quite quick.


“Did you think I was

someone else?” Santa asked her.

Flustered, she said, “Yeah, I did.

I thought that you were


another store clerk bugging me

to buy something.”

Santa smiled with, “Looked like

you were ready to swing.”


Paige gave a small laugh and

apologized once more

for her swearing at him and

behaving so poor.


“It's alright,” Santa said.

“These guys can be pushy.

So, you doing some shopping?

For whom, might that be?”


“No, I'm not shopping,” she said,

her tone, somber tinged.

“It's just a game on which

my son had always binged.”


“Gave up on the game, did he?”

the fat man replied.

“No,” she said. “My son loved it

'till the day he died.”


Santa's jaw slackened and

sadness came to his face

as he watched Paige put

the game's box back into place.


“He really loved it,” she said.

“He was always on.

Sometimes he'd even play it

from dusk until dawn.


“It was like an addiction,

but not quite as bad.

Sometimes he'd tell me about

the raids that he'd had


or the monsters that he

and his friends had killed off.

It was silly to me,

but I tried not to scoff.”


“I'm sorry,” Santa said.

“When did he pass away?”

Paige then replied, “Seven years

ago yesterday.”


An uncomfortable

silence hung in the air

as others kept shopping

around the sullen pair.


In time, Paige gave Santa

a little, yet sad smile

with, “Makes Christmas time rough,

since it's when I lost Kyle.”


“That was his name?” he asked,

to which Paige replied, “Yes,”

in a way that mirrored

her visible distress.


Santa caught movement

from the corner of his eye.

A line forming at his chair,

was what he did spy.


When he looked to Paige,

he took her hand in his own.

He gave her a warm smile

and spoke in a soft tone.


“I have to go,” Santa said.

“But before I do,

I have a small question

that I'd like to ask you.


This may seem out of place,

but please tell me my dear,

what is it that you would like

for Christmas this year?”


Paige met his caring stare,

and with ache in her eyes,

said, “To talk with him once more

and apologize.”


She gave a pain-filled smile

before she walked away

and left Santa standing

with a look of dismay.


As he returned to his chair

to take each request,

Paige went out to her truck,

doing her very best


to keep her emotions

under control so she

wouldn't find herself on a

public crying spree.


She drove home and had herself

a relieving cry

and cleaned her house as the

afternoon drifted by.


By ten at night, she had

climbed into her warm bed

and onto her soft pillows,

went her sleepy head.


She laid there for a time

'fore sleep took her away

and bombarded her with

thoughts that she'd kept at bay.


These thoughts became the dream

she was subjected to.

The horrid memories

that she'd tried to subdue.


Of the night she and Kyle

got into a bad fight,

after she'd been testy

toward him most of the night.


How she'd chastised him for

wasting time with a game

that she felt was moronic

and fully to blame


for his not being social

or getting out more,

and how he'd sit in the dark

behind a shut door.


He'd told her that WOW let him

play with his friends who

they'd left behind after

moving a time or two.


That he and them could talk

like they used to back when

they could all meet face to face

again and again.


She'd told him to make new friends.

He'd said that he did.

And that was when Paige seemed to

fully flip her lid.


She'd called him a loser

with no real social life,

who'd become a fat slob

and never find a wife


because he was too busy

on his computer.

That he had become a

disappointment to her.


Kyle'd gotten angry too

and shouted back how she

just didn't get it and

never would, most likely.


She'd shouted at him,

“Then explain it to me, Kyle!

Tell me why that dumb game's

worth a hermit's lifestyle?!”


Kyle'd yelled right back,

“My new friends here don't play this stuff!”

“Oh no!” Paige yelled mockingly.

“That must be so rough!”


Kyle'd sneered at his mother

for a moment or two

before he yelled at her,

“What am I sp'osed to do,


“pretend to like basketball

or that NASCAR shit,

when I couldn't care less

about any of it?


“And who are you to give

me shit about my game,

when you sit on your ass

watching shows that are lame?


Talk shows and gossip shit

for hours ev'ry day.

Yet you jump up my ass

because I want to play


World of Warcraft with

friends I can't see any more?”

That was when Paige slapped her son

with extreme vigor.


He'd reeled from the hit,

stumbling off to his right.

“Go to hell!” she'd screamed.

“Get the fuck out of my sight!”


“Fine by me,” Kyle'd said,

then went to his room to get

the keys to his car,

which was a beat up Chevette.


As he came storming back,

Paige'd yelled, “I'm not done, Kyle!”

“I'm done listening!” he'd replied.

“Done by a mile!”


Her eyes flared with rage as

Kyle went out the front door,

slamming it hard behind him

as his mother swore


up a storm while she came

following him outside

with a near hateful glare

and a purposeful stride.


Outside in the snow

that had been falling a while,

onto her son, her anger

continued to pile.


“Get back here!” she'd shouted.

“Go to hell!” he'd yelled back

as he got into his car.

“I'm done with your flack!”


Paige'd watched as her son's car

backed out of the driveway,

then sped off down the street

where it faded away.


Her dream then became a mix

of moments that were

filled with images that

were like torture to her.


Of getting a phone call

from a cop who had said

there'd been an accident

and that her son was dead.


Of driving through the snow

to a morgue so that she

could see and identify

his lifeless body.


Of a cop telling her how

her son lost control

of his car in the snow,

which then caused it to roll


at a high rate of speed

into a large pine tree.

And with no seat belt on,

he'd been killed instantly.


Of a funeral and

coming back to a home

that her son was gone from and

would no longer roam.


Of guilt and sorrow over

what was said and done.

Of the last words she had hurled

at her only son.


But like every bad dream,

it was soon left behind

as she opened her eyes

and was thankful to find


that it was Christmas Eve.

That the rough night was done

and her bedroom was lit up

by the morning sun.


She let out a yawn and

sat slowly up in bed,

the echoes of her dream

still running through her head.


Christmas Eve came and went

with almost no fanfare.

She stayed home and cleaned

and didn't go anywhere.


Day turned into night

and it wasn't long before

she was asleep in bed,

letting out a light snore.


Christmas morning arose

and soon saw Paige awake.

She laid there for a while

and decided to take


some time before she sat up

and let out a yawn

as she took in the warm glow

from the new day's dawn.


Paige got out of her bed

and answered nature's call,

then sleepily made her way

out into the hall.


Once there, her eyes turned to

the shut door at the end,

beyond which was the bedroom

where her son would spend


so much time playing games

or just watching TV.

But no one was there now,

yet it was not empty.


Paige strode down the hallway

and opened up that door,

which revealed a room that

looked as it had before


Kyle had stormed out on that

night seven years ago,

when he left one last time

into the falling snow.


Posters lined the walls,

from games to various bands,

with a sculpture piece that

he'd done with his own hands.


On a small shelf, a curvy

woman that he'd made

stood wearing very little

while holding a blade.


Beside her, stood a wolf

with a snarl on its face.

Both looked set to fight

as they stared off into space.


Nearby was his desk where

his computer still sat.

She saw some dust there and said,

“I'll have to clean that.”


But just as she looked away,

something caught her eye.

Something that wasn't there

the last time she'd come by.


On Kyle's desk, right next to the

keyboard that was there,

was what looked like a gift

wrapped in Christmasy flare.


The paper was red and green,

with white snow flakes too.

For a few moments,

she looked unsure what to do.


“Where'd that come from?” she asked

and walked over to see.

When she picked up the gift,

“This thing's addressed to me?”


She looked at the present's tag

through a wide-eyed stare.

“To Paige, from Santa,”

was what had been written there.


“Where'd this come from?” she asked

as she held the present.

She then removed the paper

after a moment.


Within a few seconds,

she looked lost and unsure

as she held a game box

that she had seen before.


She recognized the female

elf on the cover

and the words “World of Warcraft”

that were above her.


But also on that box

was a small, Post-It note.

On it, “Install this and play,”

was what someone wrote.


Paige looked lost and confused;

wary of what to do.

Were the gift and note some things

that she should eschew?


Or should she go along

with what was asked of her

and take a chance to find out

just what will occur?


She did and said nothing

for a good minute more,

staring at the box and note

intently before


she opened the game's box

and removed the CD,

then turned on the power

to her son's old PC.


Though the machine was old,

it still booted up fast.

It was then that she did

what the Post-It note asked.


She popped in the CD and

waited 'till the screen

that told her how to install

the game could be seen;


a screen that asked if she

was all set to have fun

with “World of Warcraft:

Special Christmas Edition.”


With a few left mouse clicks,

the disc drive came alive

and Paige waited until the

“finished” screen arrived.


With the game now installed

and everything all set,

she got the game started with,

“Let's see what we get.”


She watched the game's intro

and came to the screen where

two spaces to log into

an account were there.


But those spaces looked to be

already filled in.

So she clicked on “Login”

so the game would begin.


It took roughly a minute

for the game to load.

But once it finished,

Paige took in what the screen showed.


Before her eyes was

the low polygon count of

what looked like a tavern

that was viewed from above.


The chairs, tables, plates, railings

and all of the rest,

were all a bit blocky.

They didn't look their best.


But, the warm glow of the fire

and candles gave it

a cozy and inviting

welcoming spirit.


Up close on the screen was

what looked like an elf lass,

whose slinky clothes did little

to cover her ass.


“Is that who Kyle played as?”

she muttered to herself.

“Figures that he'd go and

pick a scantly clad elf.”


Paige grinned, shook her head,

and then moved the mouse around.

As the game's camera panned,

it was then she found


that no one else was in

the digital tavern,

which brought a tone to her voice

that was harsh and stern.


“Well this looks boring,” she said,

still moving her view

with the mouse 'till she heard

that someone had come through


a squeaky swinging door,

like from an old saloon.

“Why'd Kyle spend so much time

with this each afternoon?”


At the screen's bottom,

a line of text did appear

that said, “It's better when

more people are in here.”


Paige moved the mouse so that

the camera swung to

show that someone was behind

her character, who


just stood in place in an

idle animation.

Then new text appeared that read,

“Then it's way more fun.”


Paige looked at the character

across from her own.

It was then for a loop,

that she found her mind thrown.


“What the-?” she uttered with

confusion on her face.

“OK. How'd they hear me?

Did someone mic my place?”


“No,” came text on the screen.

“Starting up my PC

makes my monitor's mic

start automatically.”


“Your?” Paige said with suspicion

as she eyed the screen.

“I bought this for my son, Kyle.

This is his machine.”


“I know,” came some new text.

“That's why I called it 'my'

and why you're using the

character I named 'Kai.'”


Paige started at the screen

with an uncertain gaze that

told of her confusion and

where her mind was at.


“What's going on here?” she said.

“Who the hell are you?”

It was a moment later

that she began to


see something about the

new person's character

that began to seem oddly

familiar to her.


The model was rough with

its low polygon count,

but it looked like Kyle by

a sizable amount.


The way the hair was black

and scruffy on its head,

as if it had just rolled

itself out of its bed.


The blue eyes and glasses

and heavily-bridged nose.

The thin arms that stuck out

from its thick looking clothes.


The oval-shaped face and

its quite thin-looking frame

that looked very much like him

despite how the game


had his likeness on an elf,

which seemed a bit weird.

Seeing what looked like Kyle,

but blue skinned and long-eared.


But that was surpassed when

the game dropped a new bomb,

as the Kyle-like elf waved

with text that said, “Hi Mom.”


Paige stood in stunned silence,

not knowing what to say.

“Who is this?” she asked

as she turned her eyes away.


A new bit of text came up.

“It's me, Mom,” it read.

“This isn't funny,” she stated.

“My son is dead.”


“I know,” came new text.

“It's been seven years since that

night that I left home after

we had that huge spat.”


“I'm turning this off,” Paige said,

anger in her voice.

“I don't know who you are

to make the kind of choice


“to play this sick joke on me,

you son of a bitch!”

“Please Mom, don't!” came new text.

“Don't hit the power switch!


“Ask me any question.

Whatever comes to mind.

I'll prove I'm me and not

someone being unkind.”


“Fine,” Paige blurted. “Tell me,

when Kyle was about four,

what happened with him

and my old desk's middle drawer?”


After a moment, some new text

popped up on-screen.

“You want me to relive that?

C'mon Mom, that's mean.”


“Now!” Paige shouted.

Up came new text that read, “That's when

I pinched my small johnson

in that drawer in your den.”


“Tell me how,” she insisted.

“Fine,” read the new text.

“I used to run through the house

nude, which made you vexed.


Well, I was looking for

that toy xylophone you

regretted giving me

when I was about two.


You had gone and hid it

so that I couldn't play

with the thing in the kitchen

every single day.


I found it in the bottom

drawer of the desk you

told me to stay out of...

something I didn't do.


When I heard you coming,

I slammed the desk drawer shut.

God, the pain that I felt

made me think that I'd cut


the damn thing right off and

lost my little fire hose.

But that was what I got

for standing way too close


to the lip of that drawer

with how short I was then.

I never did play in

that house naked again.”


Paige remained silent as

she read the text on-screen.

Once she had reached the end,

budding tears could be seen


building in her eyes as she

looked once again to

the Kyle-like elf and asked,

“Is... is it really you?”


The text, “It's really me, Mom,”

appeared as Paige took

a seat in Kyle's desk chair,

looking visibly shook.


“How are you here?” Paige asked.

“I don't understand how

I can be talking with you

inside this game now.”


“I don't get it either, Mom,”

the new text did read.

“I got pulled into here

and told that I would need


to go into this tavern

as soon as I could.

And when I questioned why,

I was just told, 'You should.'”


“You were told?” Paige inquired.

“Who told you to do this?”

“Beats me,” came some new text.

“They said I shouldn't miss


the chance to talk with someone

that was close to me.

All I heard was a voice.

There was no one to see.


“That, and that I only had

a short time to stay

before all this would end

and I'd fade back away.”


Paige's bewildered look

took on a saddened tinge

and she could feel her throat

had begun to constringe


as the weight of what she'd heard

pressed down on her heart.

“If we don't have much time,”

she said, “then let me start


by saying I'm sorry

for what I did the night

you drove away from here

after we had our fight.”


As she looked away

through growingly glassy eyes,

“I can tell you how much

that I've come to despise


“myself for the way that

I treated you that night.

I went way overboard

and it just wasn't right.


“I should have never hit you

or said what I said.”

It was at that moment

that her first tear was shed.


“And ever since I lost you,

at this time every year,

all I can think is

I'm the reason you're not here.”


She said nothing for a time.

No text did appear.

And as this moment went on,

Paige began to fear


that the one on the screen

who had come from somewhere

outside of the living world,

was no longer there.


“Kyle?” she said softly,

as she looked on with a stare

that was worry-filled.

“Please tell me that you're still there.”


“I'm still here,” came new text.

“I've yet to leave this place.”

As she read those words,

relief came to Paige's face.


“I screwed up,” Paige continued.

“I wish I could take

back all I said and did

and be able to make


things like they had been

before I pushed you away.

Then you'd still be here with me

and you'd be OK.”


“I'd like that too,” came new text.

“But before I go,

there are a few things that

I would like you to know.


“I don't blame you for my death.

That was all on me.

I was pissed off and driving

pretty recklessly.


“I was cursing you out

and not watching the road.

I'd paid no attention

to how much it had snowed.


“Driving with one hand

because I was too busy

hitting the dashboard.

And look at what it cost me.”


“But I was the reason you left,”

Paige insisted.

New text then read, “But [i]I[/i] was

the reason I slid


“off of the road and slammed

into that stupid tree.

I caused what ended my life.

Not you Mom, just me.


“I could have gone back to

my room and slammed the door.

Flipped you off behind your back.
Sat in there and swore


like I'd done a hundred times

in the past when you

would give me shit about

the things I liked to do.”


“But this time was diff'rent,”

Paige insisted and pled.

“I hit you. Put you down.

And you ended up dead.”


Another silence came.

No text or spoken word.

All the while, Paige watched through

vision that was tear-blurred.


She had grown worried when

some new text read, “That's true.

But [i]I[/i] still crashed my car, Mom,

and I don't blame you.


“You didn't force me out

or into that dumb tree.

So stop blaming yourself

for what happened to me.”


Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks

as she took a slow breath.

She let it out and said,

“Since the night of your death,


“I've wished so many times

that I could hold you so

I could tell you that

I love you and let you know


“how sorry I am for

what happened on that night.

That I wanted to undo

it and make things right.”


As she stared at the screen,

some fresh text appeared there.

“It's alright, Mom,” it read.

“I was always aware


“that you loved me and whatnot.

One fight doesn't change

all of that, no matter

how heated the exchange.”


“Maybe,” she said softly.

“But I still went too far.

I said and did things to you

that left a huge scar


“in my heart because of

what my ranting cost you.

I lost my only son

and a piece of me, too.”


Her face contorted a bit

as she fought back tears.

“I've missed you so much

over the last seven years.”


Text that read, “I've missed you too,”

appeared on the screen.

After a few moments,

more new text could be seen.


“There's something I want

to say while I have the chance

that was given to me with

this strange happenstance.


“I know that you're hurting

over what you said back

when we had our big fight

and you gave me that smack.


“I won't lie to you, Mom.

All of that hurt me too.

I never expected to

hear that stuff from you.


“But the fact is, I did

and it can't be undone.

I lost my life on that night

and you lost your son.


“But let me repeat this, Mom.

You didn't kill me.

Don't keep blaming yourself

for all eternity.


“But if it will make you

feel better, let me say

that I forgive you on

this early Christmas Day.”


“W-what?” she stammered as

her expression went slack

and she did her best to

hold all her sorrow back.


“I forgive you,” came new text.

A moment later,

a large swell of anguish

forced itself out from her.


With her face in her hands,

she cried for a good while

before she was able

to give a saddened smile


to the monitor where

the Kyle-like character

stood in an idle

animation before her.


“You dried out now?” came text

which made her laugh lightly.

“Don't be smart,” she chuckled.

“That meant a lot to me.”


New text that read, “I could tell,”

popped up, followed by,

“I honestly can't

remember the last time I


“saw you cry like you did

a few moments ago.

Hell, I don't think I ever

saw you cry, you know?”


Paige smiled and then said,

“Had to put on a brave front

so that my kid couldn't

pull some kind of cheap stunt


“and play my emotions

like they were a fiddle.”

As she laughed, new text read,

“I never could diddle.


“Every time I tried to

throw a tantrum so I

could have things my way,

you would just wait out my cry


“and say, 'Are you done now?'

as you stared down at me.

I don't think you ever

caved to one bratty plea.”


For the next hour or so,

they talked about a lot.

Moments that made them laugh,

and moments that did not.


Of times that made memories,

ones both good and bad,

throughout many of

the seventeen years they'd had


together before so much

had gone very wrong.

But soon something unwanted

came creeping along.


“Mom?” some fresh text read.

“I think my time here's over.”

Paige read this, and a

sad expression came to her.


“Already?” she asked.

“I think so,” the new text read,

which left Paige looking unsure

of what should be said.


She brought up a hand and

placed her finger tips to

the screen as she sadly

smiled with, “Kyle, I love you.


“I don't know how or why

this happened on this day.

But I wish so damn much that

somehow you could stay.”


“I love you too, Mom,” came text

on the monitor.

“I'm really sorry that

we couldn't talk some more.”


“Will I get to talk to

you here again?” she asked,

as her quickly building tears,

she tried to keep masked.


“I don't think so,” new text read.

“I think this is it.

But we'll meet again when

you kick the ol' bucket.”


Paige smiled a bit, with,

“Don't be such a smart ass, Kyle.”

“Goodbye, Mom,” new text read.

“See you after a while.”


“Good-bye,” Paige uttered

as her emotions did swell.

“I love you, Kyle.”

Some text read, “Love you as well.”


Kyle's elfish character

turned and walked from the place,

leaving Paige with tears that

streamed down her pain-filled face.


She cried for a good while

and rested her chin on

the desk as she stared at

where the Kyle-like elf'd gone.


But after a while,

a window came up that read,

“Try not to be sad, Paige.

Try to focus instead


“on the moments you just shared

here with your son, Kyle.

Even if that time was

only for a short while.”


Paige looked confused as she

sat up in her son's chair

and watched as new text

continued to appear there.


“I know your old wounds

have been reopened by this.

By speaking with the son

that you very much miss.


“But take to heart what was said

and let it help you.

Let it ease the pain inside

and help get you through


“this moment in time that

gave you a chance to say

what you've wanted to since

that unfortunate day.


“Take care of yourself

and know that this was no trick.

It was real from start to end.

Best wishes, St. Nick.”


Paige stared with mouth agape

as she came to the end

of the text from someone

who had helped her to mend


at least some of the pain

that had grown in her heart.

Pain that came from an event

that she did impart


to an old man at the mall

that she didn't know

who had been dressed up as

Santa from head to toe.


A few moments later,

the computer shut down.

The monitor went blank

and Paige brought forth a frown.


“Guess it's over,” she said

in a voice that was sad

as her eyes hinted at

the fresh tears that still had


yet to roll down her cheeks

because of what took place.

But before too long,

a smile came to Paige's face.


A smile that held the glow

of a mother's love for

the son she no longer had

and still did adore.


And with the blank screen of

the monitor in sight,

"Thank you, Santa," she said.

"And to all, a good night."