CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "Every Year Santa Left Me a Strange List of Rules" Creepypasta

Starting point is 00:00:01 As a kid, the one thing I always look forward to each year was writing to Santa. I'm sure many people follow this same tradition, and it's probably still done today. The only difference with me is that he used to write back. My parents encouraged me to write my first letter when I was eight. In hindsight, I figured my parents just didn't know what to buy me and would use this as an excuse to know what I wanted. How would they know that I wanted a specific Ugo doodil disc to match my friends and Zach, so we could pretend to be like the characters in the show, unbeknownst to the fact

Starting point is 00:00:35 that those things are an absolute finger trap, catching skin every time you snapped it open, and that they absolutely wrecked your cards. If they were to just ask, it would give away the surprise. So instead, they would give me a Christmassy piece of paper, and a week to think of a nice message, along with some ideas of what I wanted. My mom and dad would let me sign it, write the address, and put it in the postbox. A week later I get a letter back in just as nice paper with a list of things for me to do

Starting point is 00:01:05 This is where the fun would begin When I was eight I asked for the aforementioned Yu-Gi-DilDisc And that year the instructions were pretty simple The letter was filled with metaphors of locks and keys The key to happiness and locks of the heart Fluffy things like that If I were older

Starting point is 00:01:25 I'd have probably been able to figure out what the instructions were from the riddle alone, but luckily from my eight-year-old brain, there was a clear set list at the bottom. It was simple. I had to turn Mrs Harris's desk key and take it. I also had to adhere to the following stipulations. I was to not get caught, and I had to get rid of the letter afterwards. Burn after reading, just like a spy. I loved it.

Starting point is 00:01:53 I was filled with excitement, like any kid that's given a covert mission. It was mid-December, so I didn't have much time left until school was out, so I planned carefully. Our class took a rotation on two students for cleaning duty. The easy route would have been to wait until I was on duty, and that way I only had to worry about one person catching me. However, I was already thinking big, because if it were to go missing then, then there'd also be only two suspects. So instead, I waited until PE and volunteered to get to be. get equipment. Because the task was simple, it wasn't hard for me to slip in class on the way to the shed, turn it, and yank the key out to rush back to tasks. No one suspected a thing, and I had to

Starting point is 00:02:38 struggle to keep in the inner smugness of having pulled off such a heist. I was even more happy when school ended early after that. The day after, all the parents got a call that school was out, and that Christmas break was extended. You can imagine how much I exploded at the news. That year, As promised, I received my gift, among many others, and I remember it as one of the best Christmases ever. The next year, the tradition continued. My parents sat me down with more paper, and this time I really tried to take advantage of the list.

Starting point is 00:03:14 Having remembered how easy last year's challenge was, I wanted to see how much I could get for these meaningless tasks. I listed out a bunch of things my nine-year-old brain could muster and happily posted the letter with my parents. It wasn't long until I got a reply, but when I did, it was heftier than before. It seemed that the effort of the tasks reflected the amount asked. The first paragraph of the letter was again poetic fluff that I paid no mind to, things about fair exchange and consequences of action.

Starting point is 00:03:47 I impatiently skipped straight to the numbered list, which was much easier for me to understand. Number one, swap meals with your best friend. Number two, spray another's perfume around the house. Number three, hide all the coffee. This was again followed by the stipulations, don't get caught, and destroy the letter. The tasks were again quite random, but they didn't seem too difficult. And because I didn't have long, I got to it right away. I started with the top and kept trying to convince my best friend to trade lunchboxes.

Starting point is 00:04:24 However, this proved to be more difficult than I'd anticipated. At first, he hesitantly denied. However, the more I asked, the more fervent he became. When I pride, he explained that his mom didn't allow it to eat anyone else's food. The way his mom put it, his mother put extra love in his food, so he was the only eat what she provided. I was in a rut about this, so I moved on to task two. It took my mind a hot minute to figure out what it fully meant.

Starting point is 00:04:56 At first I was tempted to just pick up my mum's perfume and spritz the house with it, but I figured another's meant someone else's bottle. After school, I left the house and walked around the neighbourhood for inspiration, trying to think of where it'd find such a thing. At that age, I couldn't just buy some from a shop, nor could I ask an adult since I had no good reason to. I thought about asking a girl in my class, but I'd never seen them use any, and if they did,

Starting point is 00:05:24 would they part with it if I just asked? More had a lost than before, I simply dumped the coffee I'd smuggled from the house and returned home. The next morning, I ate breakfast whilst my parents were perplexed, trying to find their morning drink. I didn't pay attention to their theatrics, though, because my mind was racing on how I was going to complete all the tasks before Christmas. My mum made my usual meal and dumped me at school, her mood a bit more sour than usual. At school I almost got in trouble for how in my head I was. I no longer had the patient Mrs Harris as my teacher and her replacement was much more strict. The teacher accused me of daydreaming and, after more insubordination, I was told to stay in during break.

Starting point is 00:06:12 This made my already crashing mental dip further as I was now stuck inside on one of the last days in school. But divine timing was on my side. While sat in the classroom, the sounds of kids joyously living it up on the yard, my teacher was sat doing bits and pieces of work. I watched, curious, and what fabled things teachers do when the class isn't around, when I saw her reach into a drawer, discreetly spritz itself with something, and put it away. It was fast, and, as I stared, trying to figure out what happened, a wave of floral scent wafted over me.

Starting point is 00:06:49 It was perfume. Very quickly, I formulated a plan to take it, and the rest of the day I behaved as normal. That evening, I planned things through in my head, while I poured out the dark bitter grains into a nearby ditch, the smell making me wonder why adults revered this morning drink so much. The next day, I immediately put my plan into action. I ignored the perplexed faces of my parents

Starting point is 00:07:19 as they searched fruitlessly for their coffee. Even when they looked at me, ruling over whether I'd taken it, but also, if so, why? When I arrived at school, they announced the annual Christmas dinner, something I'd forgotten about since the previous year

Starting point is 00:07:35 it didn't happen due to school ending early. This inspired me. Usually it was our job to let our parents know, though they were expected to already know in the first place. so all I had to do was fail to mention that my mom didn't have to pack my lunch the next day and my plan would be in motion. The rest of the day was more precarious. I had one shot, but my goal was the bottle.

Starting point is 00:08:02 Luckily, I was experienced and simply recreated what I did the previous year, but instead of stealing the key, I swip the perfume. Something I didn't think about, though, was how I was going to spray the house. See, if I just went around and did it while my parents are home, They'd know something was up and confront me about it. I had to be more cautious. The next morning I didn't say a word, and in my mom's tired state, she didn't think twice about making my lunchbox.

Starting point is 00:08:32 She was seemingly stuck on autopilot, so I didn't need to persuade her otherwise. She moved like a zombie, getting me to school, and my next phase kicked in. Before lunch, I snuck into the cloakroom and very quickly swapped out all of the car. swapped out all of the content of my lunchbox into Zaks. You see, I knew he'd have a packed lunch as well, because it always stood out to me that he was the only kid who didn't eat Christmas dinner like the rest of us. Once lunchtime hit, this was my one chance.

Starting point is 00:09:03 Instead of heading to the canteen, I quickly slipped away from the other kids and ran home as fast as I could. Usually, we were called in a class at a time, and they'd register who entered. But when Christmas dinner was served, we were split in half and led in at the same time to fill the hall. It took about a 20-minute casual walk to get home,

Starting point is 00:09:24 but with a dash of energy, I made it in about 15. I quickly opened the door with the emergency key that was hidden in the yard and went about my business. I scooped up the bottle and made sure to fire a spritz off in each room and extra few in the bedroom to overpower mum's lingering scent. I quickly hid the bottle and hastily made my way back to school. If my calculations were correct, I would make it there fast enough to join the second group. But when I arrived, the first group were being led out early, and we were all sent to class.

Starting point is 00:09:59 Those of us that hadn't eaten were given pre-arranged Christmas meals, called off at this point to eating class, much to the confusion of many. The rest of school was in an odd, somber mood, but there was little to no work to do, so many of us accepted it. When I got home, the turbulent mood continued. When I was dropped off, I was sent to my room. I could tell my parents were whisper shouting at each other in the distance, working its way up until they were almost arguing in a heated tone.

Starting point is 00:10:31 When I eventually came down, they quieted down, but the tense mood lingered in the air. Early on Christmas, I poured the lass of the coffee out before my parents woke. When they came down and saw me awake, I just told them I was excited for Christmas. To say that Christmas was divine is an understatement. It couldn't have gone any better. Even though I could tell my parents' mood was still sour to each other,

Starting point is 00:10:59 they seemed to put things aside for my sake. After a wondrous dinner, my pile of presents were stacked, much more than I was used to. It was a hallmark day, sadly. That was the last year of our little tradition, as my parents divorced a few months later. Though I still saw them both at Christmas, the magic of making the list was lost.

Starting point is 00:11:25 Something I associated doing together as a family. Besides, by ten, I had that false provider of wanting to seem older, so I tried to cast aside such a tradition as being too childish for me, despite deep down wanting to do it. School was no better. After losing Mrs. Harris, my favourite teacher at eight, Then, just as I was getting accustomed to her replacement, a new teacher left, I no longer got attached to adult figures at school. Sadly, it was the same for friends.

Starting point is 00:11:58 Once I came back from Christmas, Zach, my best friend, no longer came to school. He'd moved away during Christmas break. This led to a lot of social anxieties and abandonment issues growing up that I'm still tackling to this day. It has been exciting, though, when recently. I managed to reconcile my parents enough to spend Christmas together. In my twenties, it's hard for me to bounce between two households, with my job always lingering in the back of my mind. At first, I was worried they would be spiteful.

Starting point is 00:12:32 They never split in the nicest of terms, but the past time seemed to have levelled things off on a friendlier foundation. We reminisced about the funny things I'd do as a kid, the strange stories I had of school, and my parents' individual adventures, into dating. It was warming. Though a lot of truths also came out. I was told that my friend, Zach, that left after Christmas when I was nine, didn't actually move. He sadly passed away. Apparently, he was hypersensitive to a whole variety of foods, and somehow his mother packed him

Starting point is 00:13:08 the wrong lunch. He quickly passed away after having a severe allergic reaction. I was mortified to hear this. So I pride for more things they kept from me over the years. It turned into a huge opening up. Apparently the reason Christmas came early when I was eight was because my favourite teacher, Mrs. Harris, had a serious asthma attack. When she went for her inhaler, the drawer she kept it in was locked. Luckily, she was found by staff before any student saw. This sparked memories of my own.

Starting point is 00:13:44 The meal, the drawer. These were linked to the strange tasks I was given as a kid. I peaked a question about perfume, if anything came from any outside smells when I was nine. And both my parents looked at each other, and their faces dropped. The first to change was my mother's, which grew dark. I don't think we should keep this from you anymore. That was how I found out your father was having an affair. He often returned home whilst I was at work.

Starting point is 00:14:13 He started acting strange for a while. and the coffee was being used up much more quickly than usual, and then I started to smell the smell of another woman. Dad chimed in straight after. No, I keep telling you that's not what happened. I must have picked up a floral smell from the shops. I was not unfaithful. No matter how much my dad protested his innocence,

Starting point is 00:14:35 my mother wasn't having any of it. Whilst their exchange continued, the pieces of my head were falling about, but nothing was lining up. Only one question lingered, which I blurted out. Then, why did you make me do those weird things? They both stopped and looked at me. What things, my dad asked.

Starting point is 00:15:01 I explained our fun tradition. Every Christmas, they'd make me write a list. We'd send it, and in return, I get given a chance to prove how good I was with little scavenger hunt-starred tasks. Their public's face is never dropped. until my dad caved in first, when he realized what I was talking about. Oh, your Christmas letters! You must have misheard us. Those were supposed to be wishing letters, notes that wish people you love good fortune and well-being, is an old tradition from my home country.

Starting point is 00:15:32 What, were you using them to ask for presents? I squinted at this. It does make sense that I could easily misinterpret something, like asking what I want, as a sort of Christmas wish list, but this only piled more questions. Then how did you know exactly what to buy me when I was eight and nine? You got everything in the list spot on, I asked. We never read them. Traditionally, it's bad luck to see someone's letter. You must have told us at some point.

Starting point is 00:16:03 My dad reasoned. I wanted this to satisfy me, but too much was left and answered. I had to push more. I had to find out the truth. Then what about the list? the weird things you guys got me to do. Things got tense when they tried to figure out what I was talking about. I wanted to specify, but to do so would mean admitting to the things I did.

Starting point is 00:16:31 And if they weren't involved, then I would implicate myself in some serious stuff. After an awkward amount of silence, a spark flickered in my dad's eye. I know, why don't you just read the letters for yourself? He went on to explain that it was custom to keep them some. where, now obvious that they weren't posted like I believed. After a while of rummaging, my dad found the dusty old envelopes in a box of memorabilia he kept of mine, and since it was bad karma for others to see them, they left me in solitude to read them.

Starting point is 00:17:08 I was immediately barraged by the sheer amount of spelling mistakes. In my childhood head, I imagined I was writing sonatas, eloquently bartering the exchange of gifts to the once St. Nick. but what I saw was a doodle of grammar and punctuation mistakes I guess my nostalgia glasses were heavily tinted when remembering writing these they did follow roughly what I remembered though me asking for health for my family for myself to do well in school then a bunch of toys I wanted

Starting point is 00:17:38 there was no indication that anyone else could have read these and replied back both letters looked completely normal for a child to write It wasn't until I was putting them away that I turned them over and saw what was on the other side. Written in bold black marker was who I was trying to address these letters to. Santa. However, I'd butcher the spelling completely. Written plainly on the back was one name, Satan.

CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "Every Year Santa Left Me a Strange List of Rules" Creepypasta

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