The Coldest Christmas

In the cold snowy night, the kitsune stood freezing to death. His entire body shook with all that could keep him warm was a torn scarf that he found in a dumpster. He wrapped himself in his arms. The tips of his fur frozen solid. He kept shivering as the cold winds blew. His eyes were closed. He tried to walk, but he couldn't bare to move. Both of his tails were frozen to the tips.

He had a runny nose, but he dare not wipe it. He feared that if he moved, he would die. He heard a noise to his left. He looked over. At first, he saw his dying reflection in a window. As he looked on, he saw through it. He saw a small family of kitsunes. The small kids were playing with toys they had gotten from dear old Santa. Mom and Dad sat in their comfortable chairs. all the while a fire flickered under a wooden mantle behind them.

Tails took in this site. His heart sank lower, as it always did. It too was frozen. He tried to walk. Back into the alley he went. Each step made a crunch in the snow. He wondered when his bare feet would break off from frost bite. The wind blew more, and he pushed on through. He sat behind a dumpster. He sat ona make shift cardboard bed that he had made and slept on many nights in a row.

He stared at the brick wall. The snow fell from the cracks, floating over and landing on hhis face. He wondered to himself. What is love? Because he had two tails, he was not to have love? There were over ywo hundred ways to say it, and only one way to express it. Why culd he not understand it? Was he not meant to love, or to be loved? He only new of one love. It was to love to hate.

He hated the kitsunes if his pack. He wished he could kill each and every one of them. Yet, deep down, a small flame in his heart told him it was not right. So he drove on, without love. Without this thing of joy and of Christmas. Yes, he did not celebrate Christmas. If there was no one to love, then why bother?

He finally questioned himself to sleep. He slept on the cardboard mat, his only blanket being the scar around his neck. He began to dream. He dreamed of having the things he could not.

He dreamed of being part of that family. He dreamed of celebrating Christmas. He dreamed of love, and he dreamed of being loved. Tails loved his dreams. In fact, that was the only good thing he loved.

This night, of Christmas night, he stayed with those dreams. Those dreams that made him warm when the world stayed cold. He never woke up from that sleep. That sleep that, for the first time, you could find this poor, loveless kitsune with a smile on his face.