a/n: sorry for any run on sentences. I'm kind of in a description happy mood. The italics later in the story indicate a flashback. Oh, and the title of this story is owned by John Lennon.

Johnny watched through the window of Dragon Books as Devi averted her eyes from the small green box near the cash register and focused on another customer. She probably knew the present was from him. With a sigh, he began to walk home.

"I may as well face it", he thought, "Devi will never forgive me. Makes sense, I suppose."

As he shuffled down the street, Johnny looked longingly at the homeless folk begging for change and rooted around in his coat pockets for a dollar or a quarter, but found nothing. Around him, Christmas shoppers bustled with colorful packages and acting as if the beggars didn't exist. Bastards. He considered pulling out one of his trusty knives, but what good would that do? The homeless would still be poor and to make matters worse, they'd be traumatized by the pile of dead bodies. "I'm one of the assholes, too." Johnny muttered as he stared at his worn and dirty boots.

"Hey weirdo! Move it!" he someone yell from behind. "Sorry" he grunted as he continued walking home. Only two more blocks and he could finally have some privacy.

Johnny arrived home to a bare house: gone were the torture devices that once hung from the walls and bloodstains covering the furniture and creaking wooden floor. The wall was now torn apart with tangled rusty wires sprawling out like intestines ripped from the abdomen. The living room/ front hall couch's cushions were peeled, exposing the yellow sponge material underneath and the tv that had actual rabbit ears was breaking down. He headed for the kitchen, which still contained the refrigerator, microwave, and table with chairs, and began to search the cupboards for a can of chicken noodle soup, but only found tomato. He hesitated and set the can down on the counter. "I'll eat it later." Johnny muttered as went to sit down on the couch. He wished the doughboys or Reverend Meat were still around, at least he'd have someone to talk to. Turning on the tv, he found that a Charlie Brown Christmas was on. He loved watching it with his mother and father before they got divorced. He then began to remember..

Once, when he was four years old, he came home from pre-school to show his parents the letter to Santa Claus that he had written. Instead, he found them in the middle of a very intense shouting match.

"Why the hell can't you get a job?!" his father cried.

"Why can't you find a new job? You've been lazing around the house for three weeks!"

"Momma! Daddy!" he cried waving his letter in the air, "I wrote a letter to Santa." His mother then turned to Johnny with a surprised expression.

"That's lovely, honey. Go to your room, your daddy and I are having trouble at the moment." Johnny nodded and with a forlorn expression, he retreated to his room where he waited. A few minutes later, he heard footsteps coming up the stairs and then the sound of quiet sobbing. He peered out of his door and looked into the darkened hallway. "Momma?" he whispered. Realizing it was safe, he went into his parents bedroom where he found his mother sitting on the bed and wiping tears from her cheek.

"Momma," he asked, " Daddy's mad, isn't he?"

She nodded. "Yes, Johnny. I'm sorry if our fight scared you."

"It's okay. Do you want to see my letter to Santa?"

"Okay, that'd be nice."

After they read the letter, there was a minute or two of silence and then Johnny asked, "Momma?"

"Yes Johnny?"

"Are you and Daddy gonna get divorced?"

"Well, I-I don't know. Hopefully one of us will get a job."

"I love you and Daddy, momma. I don't want you to fight." He replied as tears welled up in his eyes.

His parents divorced a month later.

Johnny blinked back tears as he remembered this. He wanted his mother, father, anybody to be with him. "S-Some Christmas." He stammered. Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted by a shout from next door where his younger neighbor, Squee lived. Then, there was a loud crash followed by sobbing. His stomach did a summersault, the parents must've been fighting again. He didn't want Squee to end up like him: he knew what he had to do.

Todd "Squee" Casil sat on his bed trembling as he clutched his bear Schmee. He couldn't sleep because of his Mommy and Daddy's fight. How was Santa going to deliver his presents now? He then heard a tap on the window and looked up. The scary neighbor man was crouched outside his window! Squee waved as he rushed over to the window and opened it

"Hey Squeegee," Johnny said, "this isn't anyway to spend your Christmas eve, yeah? I need some company, care for a sleep over?"