Prompt : Hero, 500 words.

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I chose to believe in Santa.

Therefore, I became him.

***

Phantom Thief suspected to be...Santa? P.T has stolen hundreds of valuables throughout the year, and they were all sold off to help orphans houses. Is this modern 'Robin Hood' a true, good man?

***

Stepping into an orphan house near the woods, he slid on his mask properly before greeting the gentle-looking woman. "Good day, madam, I'd like to donate some money," He fished his pocket for a check.

"Oh, thank you for your kindness-"Her eyes widened at the sum of money written on it. "A-are you sure, sir? T-This is quite-"

"Please do accept it," He cut her off. "I'll take my leave now, thanks for having me."

"O-Oh..."She stammered. "God bless you abundantly for your kindness, sir!"

He left with light steps.

God, huh? He snorted. Blessings for a thief? The irony.

He decided to visit again someday, he happened to find this orphan house...a little nostalgic.

***

A few months went by, and he found himself back to the same place.

The second he stepped inside, he realized the interior design had changed. Simple but it was brand new.

"Ah, kind sir!" She exclaimed. "As you can see, your generosity has helped a lot!"

He nodded at her, but could not help the disappointment that washed over him. Everything inside here changed, it was different.

Before he could speak, tons of children rushed into the room and surrounded him.

"He's back!"

"Thank you, sir!"

"You're our hero!"

He was a little taken aback by the overly enthusiastic welcome. Squeals and voices were buzzing around him; it was so loud he could not think.

Gritting his teeth, he pushed them out of the way and ran out of the building towards nowhere. He no longer liked that place and never will he return. Because it was different...from what he remembered when he was younger.

He finally stopped when his lungs desperately needed air. Shutting his eyes tightly as he dragged in a deep breathe, he fell to his knees.

What exactly was he doing?

As an orphaned child, he thought Santa was real. He grew up with his hope clung to Santa, his hero, hoping he could return his parents. Every Christmas he would wait for him. But years after years, his one wish was never granted. Sadness filled him and loneliness never once left.

Realization hit him strong. All along it was not kindness that made him help the orphans; it was his foolishness of wanting to believe in Santa once again.

All he wanted was to save his own dream; his hope and...his childhood. All he did was to...mend his shattered innocence, making up lies that Santa was real. All he yearned for was Santa, his hero.

I want Santa to be real. I'll tell the world that Santa does exist; he's not just some old man that's made up to make little children behave.

Santa is-no-will be real.