Believer

Top Ten Things to Believe in This Year 

#10 Santa Claus 

Do you believe in Santa Claus? I don’t anymore. I used to think he was this kind man with big hands whose smile was pale and stretched lines into the moon. My childish thoughts shaped this man who drew snowflakes and birds into the sky like a coloring book. 

But that was ended for me when my grandmother let those three forbidding words slide off the tip of her tongue. I used to be a stupid child who knew nothing but how the light combed through the sky. Now I know things, like how Santa is a man who wrapped his problems in bright hues. He tied them up with perfect bows and hurdled them across the planet. 

I always wondered if he wore the pelts of his reindeer. Or perhaps colored their noses a vivid red to keep the children wide-eyed. Perhaps he spray-painted them with the stuff you can get at the pharmacy down the street. 

Behind that pharmacy, a Santa Claus has sucked in smoke from a cigarette. He’s downed beer in three gulps and stripped the hideous costume from his body. Santa goes by many names but I hate to speak of them all. 

Maybe you should believe in this guy because it makes the children happy. I’m not a bad person so I guess seeing their pink cheeks is worth it. But I’m also not a people pleaser so I’d hope that they’d end up with coal-stained stockings.  

#9 Leprechauns 

This one has some backstory, I think. When I was drowning in elementary school with purple crescents under my eyes, we made leprechaun traps. Odd little contraptions made out of various things we found in the recycling bin. It was always the day before St. Patrick’s Day and I was twisting plastic bottles and imagining a city of cardboard. Stiff and brown and without a beating heart. 

The next morning I’d weave green ribbons though my hair and plant four-leaf clover stickers onto my forehead. Back then, I thought it was a fashion statement. Now I think it was ridiculous. 

When I’d arrive at school, I’d always see that my trap had been set off and there were dark green footprints walking all over it. They’d stomp all over my desk and trail down my chair and onto the floor. My teacher would giggle and point at the lime-colored glitter that had been dumped carelessly on my creation. 

I’d see how she cradled her hands in her dress. Ink like a hideous tattoo snaking around her wrist and glitter tumbling like stars into the Earth. 

It was a silly concept but I enjoyed it. There’d be chocolate gold coins and we’d get to eat them. I never really saw the point in believing, though. Why craft faulty traps to catch these devils that can bring bad luck? I guess I’m answerless—so I’ll have to get back to you on this one. 

#8 Groundhogs and Their Shadows 

I’ve never seen a groundhog in-person before. Sure, I’ve seen them on the news with their pointy little faces lit up by the glow of my computer, but not in real life. Could I blame it on the fact that my mother was scared of the beady eyes and broken, chained wings of the animals at the zoo? Or the fact that our membership expired three years ago? 

I’ll never know the reason, but what I know now is that I’ve never seen a groundhog or its shadow. Or a groundhog looking at its shadow. I know groundhogs are brown and speckled white with claws and buck teeth that could shred any wisp of grass into the air. And to be honest, they’re also a bit chubby. 

But my question here is how could an animal like that control America’s economy for a whole six weeks? Because it’s the modern-day legend that if the groundhog, whose name is Punxsutawney Phil from Pennsylvania, sees his shadow, then we’re in for another six weeks of Jack Frost nipping at our toes. That means more people buying winter supplies or renting expensive getaway cottages in the mountains. 

I believe in the groundhogs and so should you. They’re my favorite way to kick off February and make sure I’m not the only insane one in the country. Because believe it or not, people are trusting a groundhog to make decisions about their seasons. 

#7 Easter Bunny

My family was not Christian. Yet every year, I woke up with a handwritten note on my bedside table. My siblings and I would read it between our thumbs and pointer fingers and then follow the trail. It was usually a short trail, winding around doors and pausing to stare at silhouettes out the window. It ran diagonally down the staircase and sometimes outside into the cold rain. 

At the end there’d be three baskets. Woven by machines in factories across the sea but we didn’t dare think of that. We just stuck the yellow temporary tattoos onto our forearms and pretended we knew what the circles meant. There was chocolate also, slightly melted and trickling out of the wrapper. 

I don’t believe in the Easter Bunny anymore. It was ruined for me by my cousin but I forgive him now. I think the parents think childrens’ minds are like clay. To be molded and hacked at until no sanity is left. 

But you should believe in it because it’s hilarious. My father would dress in this huge costume every year. It was white and soft but had gained stains and tears in the chest and thighs. It’s stupid but maybe we should believe for the fun of it. Also, you get an edible gift from the bunny if you do. 

#6 The Spirits of Your Dead Ancestors 

Have you ever visited a graveyard and felt the hairs on your neck prickle? Do you believe that the spirits of the dead are still alive? I do, and I always have. 

I’ve been to a few graveyards. They’re all the same, in my opinion. Gray with threads of fog tied thoughtlessly around the billowing oak trees. A few leaves littered on the ground. Flowers propped up against the stones, some of highway colors and others just freshly cut. 

They’re innocent little places, turned dark by only our imaginations. These spirits probably live in the walls, making soft noises and watching over their families. 

We made little skeleton sculptures on Day of the Dead. I’d decorate mine with flowers and paint and black stones that you can only find by the creek. It was a masterpiece that I loved and never paid much attention to. 

You should believe in the spirits of your ancestors because it’s fascinating and exciting. That colorless outline of a human in your closet or how the faucet in your bathroom can leak water by itself. As children, that might’ve been frightening, but now that I’ve grown up and can see something—that’s not a light—at the end of the tunnel, it’s interesting. I’m not usually the professor in these sort of situations, but could also learn from their misfortune so it doesn’t come back to bite you. 

#5 Tooth Fairy

Ah, my favorite. I love fairies with their flower skirts and chins that jet out of their faces. I’ve always wanted to touch their wings and see if they crumble under my fingers like the ones of a butterfly. 

But I suspect the Tooth Fairy is something different. Some wild thing with a yellow castle made out of rotting teeth in the mountains. I bet they inherited a fortune from their uncle and is spending it on the slimy teeth of children. Normal people would buy a yacht, but as I told you, the Tooth Fairy isn’t normal. 

Have you ever heard of kids who’d pull their teeth out of their bleeding gums to serve the fairy? I have. My brother tied his tooth to a door and had my mother slam it so his tooth would pop out. And so he’d wake up with crisp bills settled into his cup on his nightstand. 

The things people do for money. But I guess we’ll never really know because life is a play and that type of affair goes on behind the scenes. 

You should believe in the Tooth Fairy because I’m twenty-five years old and I still do. It’s a magical thing that requires only thought and some browning teeth in a glass container. They come at night, never to be seen. And they rid you of those crippling dreams of your teeth falling out and you sticking your fingertips onto your swollen gums. 

#4 Wishing on a Star

We are not princesses. We do not stick our heads out the window or lean over a balcony with the moon orbiting high above. We don’t lock our fingers together and stare into the blanket of milky blue. And we think it’s stupid to mutter a wish under your breath, quickly and quietly and hopelessly. 

This is our world now, but was it like this when dragons existed? Or winged horses? Or elves? I don’t think so. 

Can you keep a secret? I wished on a star, once. I couldn’t tell you the shape of the sky or the awkward patterns of constellations or what I wished for, but I could tell you that it felt cheesy. Like I was toe-dipping into another universe and I wasn’t supposed to be. 

What also bothered me was that stars weren’t some majestic creatures with tortured pasts and white eyes. They were hot balls of hydrogen and helium that produced light and heat. They were light-years away from Earth and couldn’t be touched. They were science, a subject I didn’t like. There was evidence of this and yet I believed something different. 

Believe in the stars, I think. They’re tricksters without a soul but you can love them from a distance. Like strangers on the opposite side of the sidewalk or childhood friends. It’s not up to me but if I owned the stars I’d sew them onto a handkerchief and bury my tears inside. But I don’t own the stars, and that’s just me. 

#3 Monsters Under Your Bed

Do you believe monsters are hiding under your bed at night? I didn’t think so but my mind has been changed. I used to think they were nothing but boxes and containers and rats rustling around. Papers and files and old books. 

I was not scared as a child and I am not now. Now I know the monsters exist with their eyes covered by threads of filthy hair and a nose like a hound. I always wondered where they came from. I watched movies and read articles. I did lots of research and came up with nothing about their source or how to dispose of them. 

So I didn’t. They stayed and I named them Kai and Rosen. One of them was a father and the other a son. I left them food on my bedside table and whenever I woke up it’d be gone with an array of crumbs in its place. 

Believe in the monsters under your bed. They might be starving or injured or motherless. They make for great pets so stop campaigning for that dog. And the important thing to remember is that they’re creatures too. You both have a heart and that’s that. 

#2 Cupid

Some people hate romance. Other people are hopeless romantics. The last type of people don’t even try, and think a baby with angel wings and a golden halo is going to fly around and shoot people with their love arrow, so the next person they look at is their soulmate. I’ve summed up humanity right there, I think. 

I’m definitely one of those people who hates romance. Just a girl who’s been used and scarred and who vowed to never love again. But also a girl who sees a boy on the street and claims they’re meant for each other until her voice grows hoarse. 

Babies are cute but dumb. And the concept of Cupid is ridiculous. People have to make their own way in the world and stumble upon someone who’s sane and nice and maybe they’ll settle down for eternity. That’s the way of the world but I wish it wasn’t. 

I’ve never tried believing in Cupid. I didn’t want to end up with something along the lines of an ugly husband that I hated. But you should. Cut your fingertips with their arrows and see them whine. Some people believe in this baby. I, however, do not. 

#1 A Fresh Start

Every year on December 31st, people gather around each other and say their resolutions through chapped lips. Jumbles of words that will never be crafted into reality. Just something nice so everyone knows you aren’t perfect. 

This is tradition yet I don’t believe it. I don’t believe people are reborn when a new year comes or that they’re even going to stay faithful to their resolutions. It’s crap to me. The clocks will tick past midnight and into a new year and suddenly you’re the same person with a new calendar. 

Fresh starts don’t exist unless you travel to another dimension. People will always find you and dump your regrets back onto your shoulders. I’ve learned from experience so don’t say I didn’t warn you. 

Don’t believe in this. You’ll still look the same and sound the same and walk the same when the new year comes. So why waste precious time hoping something will change? It’s worthless, really. 

And it’s been such a long trip around the sun.