by D. Matthew Urban

December 24, 11:54 p.m. Not yet.

I stand over my baby brother’s crib.

December 24, 11:55 p.m. Not yet.

He’s sleeping. So innocent.

December 24, 11:56 p.m. Not yet.

I never thought I’d have a baby brother.

December 24, 11:57 p.m. Not yet.

I thought it’d be just me and Mom, forever.

December 24, 11:58 p.m. Not yet.

“My miracle,” Mom said. “My present from heaven.”

December 24, 11:59 p.m. Not yet.

Almost time. I raise my arm, hold the knife high.

December 25, 12:00 a.m.

Christmas morning. Time to open the present.

D. Matthew Urban

D. Matthew Urban grew up in Texas but now lives, strangely enough, in Queens, New York. He has written weird fiction in both locations.