Heavy snowfall marks the penultimate day of December.
As Leeroy walks the white streets of Salem, he sees ornaments at every house, wreaths on every door, and Christmas trees through every window.
It doesn't bother him. It doesn't.
So why does he feel like this? What is this wrath building inside of him? Where is it coming from?
Maybe it's not the holiday that irritates him. Maybe it's the laughter he hears when he passes by every house. That has to be it.
He hasn't celebrated Christmas in a long time. He was never a religious person, but that is not the real reason. He likes customs. He would be glad to celebrate it if he had a family. He hasn't celebrated New Year's in forever either. He doesn't see a point in it. Every new year is another year that he failed. Failed in finding he
