Novel & Cerita Short Christmas Stories

I was happy that Damien was here too. I looked at my phone and decided that it was time for me to watch Christmas movies. I always watch the 24 hour marathon of the movie "The Christmas Story." It was my favorite. Wasn't nothing gone keep me off my couch with a bowl of popcorn. I could watch it all day and night. I never got tired of it.

He felt a sense of anticipation as he prepared to share their winter legend. “Thank you all for joining us today,” he began, his voice carrying across the crowd. “We’re excited to share the story of the winter spirit and the hidden pond. This legend was inspired by our love for the Whispering Woods and the importance of kindness.” As he read, the audience listened intently, captivated by the tale of the winter spirit who granted wishes to those with pure hearts. Jace felt the magic of the story enveloping them, and he could see the wonder in the eyes of the children.

As I drove down the street, I noticed he had gone unusually quiet in the back seat. "You okay back there?" I asked, glancing at him through the rearview mirror. He nodded, still pouting. "Want to hear a story?" I asked. His head lifted a bit. "Only if it's a funny one." I smiled. "Alright, once upon a time, there was a little lion who didn’t want to go to school. Every morning, he would hide in his blanket cave and pretend to be asleep." Jace chuckled. "But his mom, the lioness, was very smart. So one day, she put a cookie at the edge of the cave and said, 'Whoever comes out gets the magical cookie of bravery!'"

I admitted. His breath was deeper now. And I found myself speaking up. I told him about the dream where my step uncle pinned me against the wall of my childhood home, my lips parted, wrists tied. I told him how he whispered filthy things in my ear while his fingers slid between my thighs. I told him how I begged. How I cried out. How I woke trembling and wet. With every word, my body remembered. The heat. The ache. He didn't speak. But I felt him listening. When I stopped, I was breathless.

"I was starting to get bored, then the shorter woman, her name is Liz, and she is the older one. She started talking about a bedtime story they used to hear when they were children." That piqued my attention. I remembered they had said something like that when I sneaked up on their first conversation. "What was the story about?" He chewed on a pancake. "Something like a scary story to make children stay in bed. It was about a wolf sent by the moon goddess to take all bad pups away. The wolf was called the pupsnatcher."

“Now drink up…” “How is it that I don’t notice these things until the last minute?” Siel asked aloud, sipping from the large, steaming porcelain mug. The kids came back and then hugged V. They seemed to be tired, but right then, a familiar voice suddenly called out… “Hello, everyone! Welcome to our bonfire’s storytelling time!”, Myron announced in a louder and much more animated tone than his usual CEO’s Personal Assistant voice. “We have chosen ten stories from all of those that were submitted this Christmas, and we will be performing the selected ones in two parts. My beautiful wifey, Raquel, will help me with the voices and sound effects.”

— I promise if you eat me on all fours. —Manu, you pervert. I'll get you hot,— he chuckled. I was willing to keep my promise and suggested I go to his house. I wanted to see every expression on his face and the reaction of his body when he was reading. All my stories were about him, but there was one in particular that I had written after he returned to Brazil. This one I wanted to read along with him. I could already picture myself sitting on the bed, with him behind me, feeling his hand touching me as I read about my perverted doctor. He would love this story.

3rd January, 1999(morning) The Warehouse Lana Its a never ending circle. A repeated sequence I experience everyday, locked up in this room with little or no contact. A hollow feeling in my heart whenever I think about my family, the grief I feel whenever I remember those who died in that bloody Christmas party.

I loved working here. We started, by playing games and then watching a movie followed by our lunch break. The last one was the storytelling. I was telling them a story about the little red riding hood, where the wolf falls in love with a girl and ends up dying. Although the ending was not for children, I had to do something about it.

Channy inhaled deeply after applying a bold red lipstick to her lips. She looked at herself in the full-length mirror in her bedroom. She wore a knee-length red skater dress with her natural black and wavy hair loose. "This is the last time, Channy. This is the last time." She murmured to herself. Channy didn't know how long she merely stared at herself in the mirror, thinking about her plan for tonight, which brought tears to her eyes. She immediately closed her eyes and relaxed. She made a vow to herself that she would never cry again. She will no longer waste her tears on someone incapable of fighting and standing up for her.