The Christmas present


Christmas Eve. The best time of the year. The time of family, of food, of hugs, of joy, but most importantly, the time of presents. I have always loved presents dearly, ripping of the glossy wrapping paper to find something wonderful is just so satisfying!


These thoughts swim in my mind like tiny divers, as I look at this years selection of presents, perfectly stacked under our tree. The festive rapping covers the once bland and boring boxes, ugh, so tempting! It’s almost as if it’s willing my stubby fingers to tear it apart. I decide to ask Mum if I can open one. “Mum, can I open one of my presents please?” I say, putting on my most sincere smile ever. “No,” She responds sharply, “You know the deal James, no opening presents until Christmas Day.”


“No buts James, I’m busy preparing for tomorrow go play with your toys.”


I stomp off back to the living room.


Then I get an idea. A horrible, wicked, brilliant idea. ‘What if I just… no…couldn’t possibly do that… Mum would kill me.’ One of those tiny divers in my brain has just dropped a possibility. What if I secretly open one of my presents, no one would ever know. I look at the presents. The wrapping so shiny. And now I can practically hear it calling my name. It’s no use. I’ve got to open one.


I’ll have to be careful, with my idiot brother prowling around. I’ll go check his room to make sure it’s all clear. I sneak upstairs, avoiding all the steps that creak, so as not to alert my brother to my presence. I finally get to his room and peer around his doorway, he is playing his x-box and he is getting quite involved. “Damn it!” He curses as he throws the controls down. “ I was almost up to level 5!” *a glance at the clock* “Looks like I still have time for a few more games.” He finally says. Perfect. Now is my chance.


Back down stairs, and back to the living room, the presents sit like precious stones under the tree. “I’ll only open a small one.” I say to myself, “I promise.” I prowl around the tree like a greedy idiot, looking for one that says my name. ‘Dad, Dad, Dad again, Mum, Mum, ah yes, james.’ It’s only a small one, but it’ll do. Suddenly, I catch a glimpse of a bigger present out of the corner of my eye.


I can’t resist.


I put the present down, and move towards the other present. As I get closer, I see that it has my name on it. I am going to open this one. I sit on the couch with the present. I stare at it in amazement. I can bare no longer. I rip open the wrapping like never before, I’m in a frenzy, the world blurs around me and only do I return to normal when the present is unwrapped. It’s the Mike Megatron figurine I have wanted for ages! I hug it close to my body, I am so caught up in it, that I do not see my brother making his way down the stairs.


I do not see him glance my way.


I do not see him open his mouth.


But I hear him yell.


“Mum!” He shrieks. “Mum! James opened one of his presents!”

He sprints down the stairs, two at a time, before dashing into the kitchen, were Mum is slaving over a hot stove. I don’t wait long before rushing in after him. “Mum,” He says in that winy older brother tone, “James opened one of his presents!”

“I did NOT!” I shoot back, breathless from the sudden appearance of the action.

“He’s lying Mum,” my older brother says. “I saw him opening it!”

“Did you open one of your presents James?” Mum says already fed up with our bickering.

“No!” I yell, but I’m terrible at lying. A smirk appears on my face and my Mother’s facial expression changes from I’m-tired-of-my-two-kids-fighting to don’t-move-a-muscle.

“You opened a present didn’t you.” She says her voice as cold as ice.


“Ok, I guess you won’t mind if I check then?”

“No!” I say, a bit too quickly.

“Oh?” She says turning around.

She knows that I’m telling a big, fat lie.

“I mean sure! You can look If you want. You won’t find anything.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” And with that she turns her back and walks into the living room.

I am dead.


I would love to just become a fly on the wall right now. I count down and wait for the scolding.

5… 4… 3… 2… 1…




Looks like I’ll have to tell the truth now.