This is a creative writing piece. I was in a rhyming mood so I went with it and came up with this. It is dedicated to my friend Annie and is about her as a child. It is a fictional story, if that is not automatically apparent. It is a Christmas story of sorts about a young girl who is looking for her Christmas tree and presents, and has a very unusual night in the process. It was very fun to write and I hope you have a wonderful time reading it.
Annie and the Bear
On a cold Christmas Eve
When all were still sleeping
A small child named Annie
Was doing some peeping
She had woke with a start
In the middle of the night
To find her Christmas tree taken
And no presents in sight.
So she put on her stockings
And her warm fuzzy coat
She slipped on her mittens
And then wrote a note:
Dear mother and father,
It seems something is wrong
I’ll be gone for a while
But I will not be long.
And with that little Annie
Put on her hat
She opened the door
And grabbed the key from the mat.
And then Annie left
Without making a sound
She looked down her street
To see no one around
The wind was still blowing
On that cold winter’s night
So Annie began running
Away from the light.
Then out of nowhere
A loud stomping was heard
Annie jumped out of fear
And dared not say a word
Without any notice
All was once again quiet
Annie looked left and right
To find what made the riot
Much to her surprise
From the dark of the night
A huge polar bear
Came into sight.
And on top of the bear
Was a man in a suit
And a humongous red sack
Filled with holiday loot.
The bear and the man
Walked past the small child
The man cleared his throat and said,
“This weather is mild.”
“My name is Sir Nicholas
Christmas The Great
But my friends call me Nick
Our meeting was fate.”
Annie looked up with confusion
At the man and his bear
She saw something strange
His bag had a tear.
Inside of this bag
Were all sorts of odd things
There were stockings and candy
And boxes with strings
But the strangest by far
Was what Annie saw next
The bag kept on ripping
And out fell a chest
Then little Annie
Ran up the sack
Grabbed the small chest
And handed it back.
“Oh no,” said the man
With a grin on his face,
“This chest if for you,
To put back in place.”
What happened next
Was quite strange indeed
The man and his bear
Decided to leave.
But not in the normal way
Oh no not like that
They jumped into the bag
And then all went flat
Annie ran to the bag
Picked it up to look in
But nothing was there
Where all those presents had been
The man and his bear
Had left with no trace
Of even existing
In this time or this space.
All that was left
Was the small golden box
Then a loud dong sounded
It came from the clocks
It was now six in the morning
And the sun was appearing
Light filled the sky
The clouds were all clearing
Annie ran home
And went back to bed
Her lost tree and presents
Still stuck in her head
She had placed the small chest
Where the things used to be
And waited to wake
To no presents or tree
Annie cried and cried
‘Til her parents awoke
They knocked on her door
And she started to choke:
“I’m sorry,” but then
She heard something strange
Both of them laughing
And calling her name.
She got out of bed
And walked to the place
Where the tree had been sadly
Replaced with the case.
But to her surprise
There wasn’t a chest
The tree was back
And presents a mess.
Had the whole thing been real,
The man and his bear?
No one will know
But no night could compare.
