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the man who raised me always told me about santa klaus every time natal came.
december, winter, christmas and gift from santa is a tale that listen and rewind
maybe if you're the first to hear you'll be enthusiastic. wait in disbelief whether the santa claus will go into your smokestack and put a gift in your stocking socks.
but in my nine years of age, living with a grown man, not too old, and looking very attractive to single women in any city the fairy tale began to lose his life.
something went wrong when you received a present, from the man who raised you and the saint.
helloo .... i know santa is just a fairy tale christmas. then where's the other gift? why the man never talked about the truth of where the gift came from.
"Are your parents giving presents?" when I could no longer contain the curious question that came out of my mouth
and the answer is just a shake
"then who is your sister or your friend?" I was thinking about a cousin he might have or a business associate
again he shook his head
"I found it on our doorstep, every time there comes a december always there is a gift aimed at you"
"and you never caught the guy?"
"I let and do not want to know"
the answer made me wonder and did not want to ask anymore.
I think it's useless to ask if he does not want to know. but why does not he care? is he not afraid of the present gifts I received from the kidnappers or something? or actually he knows the sender and do not want me to know?
848Please respect copyright.PENANAPMKODEymX7
This December I have not received a Christmas present, and I do not think the mystery sender has come to my house yet. so out of curiosity I made a plan.
yap, he drove me to school before going to the office. that's our route.
but as soon as his car disappeared from my schoolroom I walked home.
I waited quietly behind our hedge bushes and wished the gift sender to show up.
a day, two days, the third day if he does not come I'll give in to the stupid idea of catching this gift giver
but wait, there is a suv that stopped in front of my house. the driver descended, a young woman with long black hair, with oval face and brown eyes.
looks elegant in her flower dress and high heel shoes.
She stepped into the courtyard of our house
and upon arriving at the door he pulled something out of the bag. a gift she wished to put on the terrace floor but failed because of the sound of the car coming
the man who raised me out of the car with an expression of anger toward him
"I should not let" the man who I called father denied the gift in his hands to fall
"Did she know I gave her a present?"
"she should not know, and I hope she'll never know you're the mother who threw her at my door!"
my heart seemed to jump out when I heard what my father said. the present was from my mother, the one who had given birth to me but dumped me.
what kind of woman she is willing to throw away and pretend good
"daddy, I want to hug you" I sat down behind the bushes while holding back sobs. hoping that I heard wrong.
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