My brother and I were sent to my grandma's hands, and I don't like it since she always makes my knees crumble in fear.
So, every Christmas I wrote letters to Santa about how I hate living with her and wishing my mom to finish her work abroad so I can live with her again. To make sure that Santa will surely read my letter, I have put it inside my stocking where he usually puts his gifts for me.
Last Christmas, at dawn, the cold breeze embraces my skin. So I tried to look for my blanket beside me through my hands.
Suddenly, I heard little noises outside my room.
" Will she like it?"
It was grandma's voice! Is she talking to grandpa? Well of course she is, there's no other person she could talk to inside this house.
" Of course, she will."
So, I stood up and open my door slowly.
There, I saw my grandpa and my grandma holding my stocking hanging in our Christmas tree, putting...
Gifts.
