December 24th: The Night of Hope. Chapter 1.

I'm scared, I'm honestly scared, maybe petrified... What would happen to those around me if I hadn't been there? Maybe my voice is so tiny that I've come to overestimate it? Maybe my ideas are worthy of a madman? I'm afraid to open my closet and find what's lying there, but I know I must do it. I don’t know how. No way!

It was a December night, the cold was taking over the city. Here and there, there were barely any glimpses of what once caused joy, moments of laughter, but, above all, where love was present in its maximum splendor… Today everything looked as if an unexpected gust had swept away everything in its path… The joy of the children for the arrival of Santa Claus, of the adults for the Christmas dinner that awaited that December 24th, the joviality of the entire family for that bonfire that would serve, not only as a fire to warm hands, nor as a meeting point between uncles, aunts, grandparents, sisters, and brothers, but something more powerful than that, like a light in the symbol of a glimmer of hope in the middle of the cold night that awaits the arrival of the redeemer to cure all the ills of the world, to teach us once again the greatest lesson that he came to bring us almost two millennia ago…

Little was said about Christmas anymore, about love and respect, about friendship and empathy, about kindness and humility... Today little was said about them, and much less were they manifested... The evils that afflicted the world were superior... We had returned once again to individuality, to egocentrism where the idea of “First me, then me, and then me” prevailed over the soul of all the inhabitants of that place, where the beast himself seemed to have landed on every corner of the world, on every street corner with his gargoyle that carries an oz on his back lurking, with predatory stealth to his next victim who had the audacity to defy his commandment... Filled with calamities, and uncertainty, but above all the evils that could exist, the preferred par excellence would always be fear and hatred…

Already the news where a man was a man became less present, it was already easier to find a shooting star than the news of a man remembering that he is a man... Constant bombings in every corner of the world were the only thing that was talked about... In many of the churches behind closed doors, they talked about the Savior, the Redeemer who would once again descend from the heavens to become present among men once more... But perhaps not in the way that many expected, perhaps not on the day that…

The countdown to December 25th had begun... However, everything was desolate. It was rare to find any indication that Christmas once existed for that magical and colorful town for its traditions, for folklore, for its people, and for its own unique essence... Few people went out to sing carols, because they knew in advance that they would be called “crazy”, “stupid” or “fools” for continuing to believe that love is what would save the world... What few did not understand was that maybe, and just maybe, we had never tried to rationalize love, and I dare say that just maybe, today the beast would not have landed among us…

The clock continued its passage without stopping, the sun traveled its way to exchange places with its faithful companion, the moon... The ticking was getting louder and louder, and with every second its presence became intoxicating in the heart of the world, in the soul of its inhabitants... “Pfff, noise that will not amount to anything, and if a small spark of light and warmth is to be born today, it will be silenced and buried in the blink of an eye” said the beast from the top of the Angel of Independence... “But my lord, will what if this time if we lose the battle? Do you know what that would mean?" said the gargoyle in an agitated and fearful voice, sensing that his time had begun to expire as if suddenly everyone was leaving to forget about him... "Shut up, I know very well that they are stupid, predictable, and easy to manipulate... Just throw them in the ring and say that there will be a lot of fortune for the one who comes out the winner, and they will soon forget that they are brothers and that even those who swear that they will not fall, will be the ones who end up as winners..." the beast replied as he looked at the gargoyle with disdain“ "Don't tell me that you, the king of fear is afraid” the beast continued now with a mocking tone... “Of course not! Do I feel afraid? Please, I made it up. I am the one who permeates into people's hearts." the gargoyle hurriedly replied as she looked the beast straight in the eye.... "It's just... something tells me that maybe today is a different day."The gargoyle continued… "Different how? replied the beast. "Maybe, today it's not easy for me to enter your homes, much less that of that boy who..." the gargoyle was saying when suddenly she was interrupted “Oh, yes… I remember that boy..." interrupted the beast. "Leave that to me, I will take care of him, and if he does not feel fear, he will feel hatred in his heart”... the beast continued.…

It was exactly 12 hours before Christmas... Our protagonist was in his room composing carols that he would dedicate on that Christmas evening to brighten the spirit of those present, draw smiles on their faces and light the coals of their hearts once again... He remembered with singular joy every laugh, every hug, every smile, but, above all, and as strange as it may seem, every sunrise and every sunset... “What shall I write? I can't think of any ideas... But I had already promised them that I would play a little tonight, but no matter how hard I try and try, every time I conceive an idea, it escapes me” said the boy while lightly tapping his head with the pencil he was holding in his left hand... “... No, I already wrote about that and they didn't like it at all...” the boy continued. “What if... Not about that either, not to mention, they will see me as a freak, alas I can't think of anything to compose...” the boy was saying now while carefully observing the notebook where he was writing... “If only I wasn't like that she would be here... Her presence comforted me, her smile gave me peace in the midst of so much uncertainty and so many calamities that are seen everywhere” he continued while looking at a photograph of who was once his muse and the light that guided him to safe harbor in that deluge that swept away his world... “Sometimes I feel lonely, sometimes I feel afraid, but I try not to show it so much... I feel as if all my soul needs is just a hug, or something that makes me feel worthwhile” ... Said the boy as he lowered his gaze and a tear emanating from his eyes crossed his face until he fell to the ground…

“Did you hear that?” The gargoyle asked the beast. “Of course I did… of course I did, I heard it very well…” The beast answered as a smile appeared on his devilish face and he rubbed his hands together… “I told you that nothing could stop us, I told you that he would soon succumb to us and get on his knees before us begging us to set him free, but he will always live tied to you…” The beast continued. “Let’s go, let’s watch him closely, I don’t want to miss for anything in the world how he surrenders to us.” The beast finished as he prepared to go to that boy’s home…

“It looks pretty good from here… I think he’s been crying a lot, I think I feel like his soul belongs to me more and more” said the gargoyle as he looked angrily from in front of his home… “That’s it, keep it up, you’re doing great, you had resisted temptation, but now you’re about to fall, to give in and forget about that farce that some call hope…” said the beast as he looked at him closely and with intoxicating disdain… “Shit, duck down, he might notice that we’re stalking him” said the beast to the gargoyle as he motioned for him to hide…

“Okay… time to calm down, and think about what I’m going to do, I can’t live like this, tied to your memories, nor blaming myself for everything that happened and much less, for what didn’t happen” said the boy with a sobbing voice, while he wiped the tears that had flooded his face, he put the photo back in its place, and took his notebook, read what he had written, and said “I think my handwriting isn’t bad… I don’t know, maybe I need some fresh air to blow on my face…” He got up from his bed, grabbed his jacket and went downstairs from his room, and finally said to his mother “I’ll be back in a moment, I need some fresh air…” “Are you okay?” his mother asked him a little worried “Were you crying?” she continued. “I’m fine, I just need to clear my head a little. I promise I’m fine” answered the boy as he lay at the front door. He turned the knob and walked away aimlessly…