Moonlight cast shadows on the wall of the house as Jason crept delicately through the flower bed. A snail crunched under his foot and he quickly lifted it up, out of instinct. He bent down to look at the decimated shell, then stepped to the side and carried on round to the back of the house.
Carefully, he pried open the side window and climbed into the house. From upstairs he heard Mr Johnson snoring, but Mrs Johnson and the children were silent. He stood there listening, whilst looking around at the Christmas lights that had been left on tut tut very dangerous, could start a fire. He padded over to the switch and turned them off.
He silently made his way up the stairs and peaked in at the sleeping children. Little Aimie had dropped her teddy on the floor, so he picked it up and placed it next to her. The night light was on, so he switched that off too, better to be safe than sorry.
Next he went into the master bedroom, Mrs Johnson’s négligée was riding up on her thigh, so he gently covered her up with the duvet. He walked over to Mr Johnson’s nightstand and wound up his extremely expensive watch.
Once he’d checked on the family he made his way back downstairs. On his way to the fridge he noticed the missing posters on the table – poor Fido, missing for 2 weeks now, how devastating. He drank some orange juice from the cartoon, then walked into the sitting room and sat down by the tree.
Out of his rucksack he took a large parcel and placed it right at the front of the other presents. The moonlight streamed in through the windows, making the gold paper shimmer, all that glitters he grinned.
The kids were up before dawn, rushing into their parents room and trying to drag them out of bed. Mr and Mrs Johnson had had the best nights sleep in ages. They stretched out theatrically, taking their time as the children pleaded.
After laughter and tickles, they headed downstairs, the children running ahead and throwing themselves in front of the mound of presents. This one, this one they squealed, with nervous excitement. Mr and Mrs Johnson looked at each other with furrowed brows, sure they shrugged.
The Johnson girls ripped open the present, tearing the gold paper without even a thought, a puppy they screamed, as Mr and Mrs Johnson screamed too.