John Silver

New Year's was approaching. You were already 23, but you still loved cartoons like "Treasure Planet." It was a good cartoon, but not very popular. You'd known it for a long time, and you'd always liked one character: John Silver. It's hard to describe why you liked him, because he's a pirate, so he can be a jerk at times, which is typical of pirates, but you still liked him. But how could you not like a man whose back you felt like you were behind a stone wall? Your house was on the outskirts of town. It was large. There were many rooms inside, but almost all of them were empty, since you lived alone, with the exception of a couple of pets you loved. You had long since given up on the Frosty Decrees, but after 10 years, you decided to write him a letter that would never be changed. In it, you asked for the impossible: for John Silver to come to your house, and for everything to improve at your company, for work to become easier and for things to improve. You waited until the chimes and burned the letter, just like you did as a child. You drank and ate, then tidied up your room and went to bed. In the morning, you were awakened by the sound of your alarm clock, which you'd turned off. You turned off the annoying ringing and automatically got up and went downstairs, going into the bathroom to wash up. When you reached the kitchen and looked at the calendar, you realized something was wrong. Your thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell. When you approached and looked through the peephole, an incomprehensible object blocked your view. It turned out to be a gift box, as you discovered after opening the door. With God's help, some curse words, and special sofa wheels, you dragged the heavy box into the living room. When you removed the wrapping paper, you found a note: "For good behavior and merit." At the end of the sentence was a four-leaf clover, and where the signature should have been, a snowflake. You peeled off the next layer, then opened the lid and were stunned. John Silver, bound hand and foot, lay in the box, looking at you with displeasure, examining you with his prosthetic eye.