You all know how it feels to be ten years old around Christmas time. That's how Jackson felt. Jackson was excited for Christmas, as it was December 16th.

1945 was a good year to live in America. The war was over, fathers returned home, families were safe and sound. Everything was merry. Including Jackson. He never met his father, being drafted into the war in 1942. Jackson was only eight when the war ended. His father returned after Germany surrendered. Jackson was happy. However, that quickly changed, Jackson's father became an alcoholic. His father often smacked his mother and Jackson himself.

Christmas 1947 was right around the corner. He imagined Father Christmas was coming down the chimney placing all of Jackson's gifts under the tree, belly laughing before twitching his nose and heading up the chimney. These visions made Jackson happy. Very happy. On Christmas Eve, little Jackson helped his mother bake cookies for Santa. Jackson grabbed the plate of cookies and put them on the small end table next to the radio, which sat on the floor.

"All ready!" He said.

"Yes you are," said his mother.

She looked at the wall clock. "It's about time for you to get to bed!" She exclaimed "It's almost midnight! Santa can't come if you're awake!" Jackson jumped up quickly, ran upstairs, changed his clothes and hopped into bed. His mother followed and kissed Jackson on the cheek. "Merry Christmas, Jacky," said his mother. She shut off his nightlight.

Jackson woke up around 2 A.M. to the sound of his mother screaming.

"Mother?!" yelled Jackson. "Mother!?" he yelled even louder. Suddenly, everything fell silent. Jackson made his way downstairs. What he saw, traumatized him. His father was wearing nothing but underwear, beating his mother with a large piece of metal. He picked up a wrench and smashed her face in. He then stabbed her multiple times. His father grabbed his mother's body and brought it around the back of the house. He then wiped up as much blood as possible. Jackson ran down the hall and jumped out the window. His father saw him fall from the roof. His father threw open the side door. Jackson had hurt his ankle when he landed.

"Get up!" his father yelled.

Jackson didn't move.

"Get he hell up!"

No movement.

"Oh, I see," said his father.

Suddenly, he grabbed his son's foot and dragged him inside. Screaming, wailing and kicking, Jackson yelled "Help! Help, Someone help!" His father took the bloody knife and plunged it into Jackson's shoulder. Jackson's father kicked him in the head.

"You gonna fucking cry!?" He yelled.

He then shoved the knife into his son's back. He then swung at his neck. Blood splashed everywhere. He slashed Jackson's throat, killing him. He then beat his son's lifeless body senselessly until it was horribly disfigured. He then grabbed his wife, who was still alive. He smashed her head into the wall. He then kept stabbing them repeatedly. He slammed a bottle of Jack Daniel's over his son's body. He repeatedly stabbed his son before slicing off his hand and shoving it down the garbage disposal. He then unwrapped one of Jackson's gifts. A beebee gun. He bashed his wife in the back of the head. He kicked and punched her. She was obviously dead but he continued. Blood bursting everywhere, he shoved her in Christmas lights and wrapped her up and electrocuted her. He strangled her lifeless body and crushed her neck. He then electrocuted his wife again. He then urinated on his wife's body. For good measure, he hit her with the metal rod again.

His father panicked. He ended up grabbing wrapping paper and wrapped the two bodies up and tossed them in the neighbor's yard, hoping the snow would cover the bodies up.

The next morning, the neighbors knocked on their door for Christmas brunch. No one answered. The neighbors peered through the window. They saw blood all over the place. Especially the pool of blood on the kitchen floor, which had spilled out onto the dining room floor. The female neighbor shrieked and ran around back to go home. She ended up tripping over the bodies. She let out a yelp and they informed police. When the police searched the house, they discovered the father had hung himself in the bathroom. around an hour before the neighbors showed up.

During the autopsy, doctors found large amounts of cocaine and alcohol in his system. Meaning that he did this in a fit of drunken rage.

These killings were dubbed "The Bronx Christmas Killings" by the media.Template:Sort