All I Want
“I’ll make sure she stays quiet, and I’ll clean up after her. Please, dad?” Amanda’s staring up at me, trying to use her eyes to convince me, but I promised Linda I wouldn’t break. I sigh as I sit into the recliner, looking up at the ceiling to avoid her eyes. I feel her little hands pull on my sleeve, and I look down at her wide eyes. I can tell I’m about to lose this battle, so I look around the room, avoiding eye contact. I notice the boxes sitting by the back door that I brought in last night, all labeled “Christmas”, and a lightbulb goes off in my head.
“You know what, Amanda? Christmas is in four weeks. Why don’t you ask Santa for a pony? If Santa brings you a pony, then I’ll help you take care of it.” For a second, she just stares at me, before letting out the highest pitched scream I think I’ve ever heard. I reach for my ears and watch her as she screams and jumps up and down in excitement.
“Yay! You promise, dad?” Of course. This is the easiest promise I’ve ever made.
“I promise.” I smile at her, but her face gets serious for a second and she sticks out her little finger.
“You pinky swear?” I give her my best serious look and link my pinky with hers, giving it a small kiss to solidify it.
“Pinky swear. If Santa brings you a pony, I will help you take care of it.” Her smile returns as shakes her fists in excitement.
“I’m gonna go write Santa a letter.” She yells as she runs back down the hallway, skipping as she goes. I grab the remote next to me and lean back in my recliner, proud of myself for outsmarting my 9-year-old.
A few weeks later, I wake up to tiny little fingers, waving over my face. I jump slightly and look around the room to see Amanda standing by the bed, her face beaming as she jumps up and down. Reluctantly, Linda and I get up to follow Amanda downstairs. After each gift under the tree has been opened, she suddenly stands and goes toward the front door, reaching for the coat rack.
“Amanda, what are you doing?” I ask. She turns to look at me, grabbing her coat from the hook and puts on her boots.
“I’m going outside to see if Santa brought me my pony! I wanted to save the best for last.” I look at Linda and quickly get up to follow Amanda out the front door.
“Now, Amanda. Remember, Santa can’t always bring us what we want. You may not get th-” I cut myself off as I step outside, my eyes met with the most terrifying creature I’ve ever seen.
Standing in our driveway, towering over my Chevy, is a pitch-black horse-like animal. Its eyes are blood-red, and the horns sticking up out of its head make it look devilish. Steam is pouring out of its nostrils, as if its heart is made of coal and the whole creature is a locomotive. Its skin looks scale-like, and the tail comes to a sharp point, like the head of a spear. I step back, fear overtaking me, before I lunge toward Amanda, trying to keep her away from the horrifying creature.
“But, dad, that’s my pony!” She yells, excitedly. I look down at her and see no hint of fear anywhere in her face, only happiness and excitement. I look back at the creature and see a note taped to its back, something I hadn’t noticed before. I slowly make my way towards it, trying not to spook it into taking me as its next meal. As I reach the note, I see Amanda’s handwriting on the front, and I stop in my tracks.
In big letters, scrawled out in her 9-year-old handwriting, are the words:
TO SATAN
I immediately grab the letter, turning to Linda, who is now holding onto Amanda, and hold the letter up for her to see. Her mouth drops open, and I step away from the demonic horse, opening Amanda’s letter to Satan. It reads:
Dear Satan,
All I want for Krismus is a pony. I now I have deen very good this year, so will you pleese dring me one? My dad said he will help me take care of it.
Love,
Amanda
I feel my hands shake as I see red ink below her name, clearly a reply from her gift-giver.
Amanda,
I hope you like this pony. He’s the nicest one we have down here. He likes rotten apples and only needs one soul a year to survive. Thank you for writing to me. I don’t get many letters.
Satan
I don’t know what to feel and only look over at my family, Amanda still smiling and Linda silently begging me to tell her what I just read. I can’t help but chuckle at the ridiculousness and decide to go with it.
“You’re right, Amanda. This is your pony.” I say, not knowing what else to do.
“Yay! I’m gonna call you Chester.” She says, running up to the creature. To my surprise, the horse seems calm and doesn’t make a move to hurt her. I turn to Linda, still in disbelief and walk over to her. I hand her the letter and let her read it for herself, trying to decide what I’m going to say.
“So, I think it may be a good idea to get her tested for dyslexia. What do you think?” I ask her, deciding to make light of this obviously absurd situation.
“Really, Dylan? That’s what you’re thinking about? I want to know where we’re going to find souls for this thing to eat every year!” She says. I let out a laugh in shock, not sure how to react as I grab Linda’s hand and stare at the creature.
Madison Hankins received her Bachelor’s degree in English with an emphasis in Creative Writing at the Mississippi University for Women, and is currently pursuing her Master’s degree in English Creative Writing at the University of Southern Mississippi.
