[ WP ] You never stopped believing in Santa Clause and still wrote him a letter every year , this year you get one back

I was fourteen when my parents put me on meds, after I refused to accept that Santa wasn ’ t real and they found a psychiatrist who would do what they wanted no questions asked. I guess they thought that they were doing the right thing, but then, they hadn ’ t been there in my bedroom that night. 
 
 Christmas morning, 2:43am, I remember exactly as I looked up at the big clock at the wall and then back down to the jolly man in a red suit, who I had just disturbed putting presents out. He held his finger to his lips, winked, took a sip of milk and a bit of the biscuit we had left out and then disappeared into thin air. 
 
 In the morning I told my parents, who thought it was a cute dream, but eight years later I refused to believe it wasn ’ t real and they were finally sick of me insisting it was. Six years of heavy medication made my childhood pass in a blur and it wasn ’ t until they kicked me out at twenty and the insurance stopped paying for the meds that I finally got to look at my life. 
 
 Twenty, no qualifications, no job, no home and no real hope. So I did what I always did when I was blue and write to Santa: 
 
 *Dear Santa, * 
 
 *I know I write a lot and I know that as it ’ s not Christmas you probably don ’ t read them, but on the off chance you do, I need your help. All my life I have believed in you, believed that you were real and that I saw you all those years ago. My parents thought I was crazy, but I won ’ t give up, not until I am sure I am right. * 
 
 *I beg you, if you love me at all, then give me a sign, anything at all, so I know I am not crazy. * 
 
 *Yours forever in belief, Danny. * 
 
 I signed the letter, folded it carefully and then at the earliest chance I found a lit fire and sent it up the chimney, to work its way to Santa. 
 
 Times were hard, living on the street, fighting for food and warmth, but I found myself a spot under a bridge and with a few scavenged blankets I was soon able to call this little bit of the world home. Days passed and I began to forget the letter until late one night it happened 
 
 It was a golden glow, an object floating through the dark night and it found its way to me, hovered for just a moment and then fell to the floor, gleaming and shiny. 
 
 I picked it up with shaking hands and carefully opened the envelope and shook out the dust, until the letter floated down into my hands. Tears formed in my eyes as I opened it up and read the words that had been enscibed on it in a thick black gothic ink. 
 
 *Dear Danny*, 
 
 *I can assure you that I do not exist. Pease stop writing to me, or I will be forced to get a restraining order. * 
 
 *Yours, Santa* 
 
 
 The letter disappeared and I was left alone, in the darkness of the night.
