That was on Wednesday. The police seemed more concerned, but could still do very little. They said the neighbors hadn’t seen anything, but that they would follow back up with them about this latest invasion. So I had the locks all changed during an extended lunch break, and that night after work, I spent money I didn’t have to buy a couple of little security cameras. You know, the WIFI type you can put pretty much anywhere and that have okay night vision.

This morning I woke up with my bedroom filled with tiny Christmas figurines, all made of discolored, cracked porcelain and ranging from cardinals wearing festive hats to dancing elves with hands full of toys. They were everywhere, from my nightstands to the dresser and on both windowsills. I eased out of bed slowly, thinking to check underneath before putting my feet down. There was nothing there, but as I stepped back from the bed something else caught my eye. A small porcelain angel was laying on my pillow next to where my head lay. And like the carolers outside, its face had been burned away.

I’m too shaky to drive at the moment, so my sister is coming to pick me up and carry me back to my parents’ house for the next couple of days. Maybe police will find something, someone, and make it stop. At least I think I have their attention now.

Because aside from the figurines, I also thought and pulled up the cloud-recorded camera video from last night on my phone. For the most part there was nothing, but at 3:38 a.m., one of the cameras caught seven seconds of movement. It was the faint silhouettes of three shapes moving up the stairs toward my bedroom.

And one of those roaming shadows seemed to be dressed like Santa Claus.

Part Two

I wake up to the sound of my sister drowning.

I’m tied to a chair, and it’s one of my kitchen chairs that I’ve always been so proud of because it was the first set of furniture me and Mark bought as a married couple. Hard wood and well-made. So well made that it doesn’t even creak as I thrash against it, the cords of the Christmas lights binding me to the chair cutting into my arms and breasts as I push and pull against them. I have the crazed thought that I’m all lit up because someone has bothered to plug in the lights, but I push it aside as I hear a new terrified gurgle as they begin drowning my sister again.