Nostalgic Christmas
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“This is the house where I grew up,” said the old man. “I live in a very nice home now, but this is still my favorite place.”
The young man looked around and noticed that some of the old-fashioned decorations were broken or missing. “It must have been difficult for you to come back here.” He knew there was nothing he could say to comfort his friend. He had grown up with this man, and it was impossible to understand what he was feeling.
He walked over to the large tree beside the fireplace. It looked like a fir tree, although he could not see any of the bright red berries on it. The branches looked thin and brown instead.
He picked up an ornament from the tree that looked like a little bird’s nest and studied it carefully. It was made out of gold wire and filled with tiny white stones. He put the nest down on one of the chairs and reached for another one.
This one was different from the first one, and he picked it up to examine it closely. It was more elaborate than the first one. The wires were thicker and stronger, and the colors were brighter. He turned it this way and that. The little bird looked as though it was flying through the air. He shook it gently, but it didn’t fall apart.
He went back to the chair and picked up the other ornament. This one had the same gold wire as the first ornament, but the wings were much bigger and fluffier.
“The first one looks like a bird,” said his friend, “but this one is a dragon.”
“Do you like dragons?” asked the man who owned the house.
“Yes, I do.” He smiled, then quickly changed his expression when he saw that his friend was crying.
His friend had told him how his father died long ago, but he didn’t know about his mother. He thought he would be able to help her, even though he couldn’t bring back his father.
He felt like someone was squeezing the breath out of his body, and his heart felt like it was going to stop beating. He began to shake all over and could hardly speak. He looked at the ornament in his hand. There was something different about this one, too. It seemed more real than the other ones, even though he knew it was only an ornament.
His hands began to tremble, and he dropped the ornament on the floor. It broke into several pieces.
Suddenly the old man’s face became stern. His eyes narrowed, and he raised one eyebrow. His friend stood there motionless with his mouth open as if he was frozen stiff.
The old man began to walk toward the young man.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” said the old man in a very calm voice.
His friend looked at him as if he were seeing a ghost. He didn’t say anything. The man from the house looked at his friend as if he had lost his mind. He didn’t know how to respond to the look of horror on his friend’s face.
He reached into his pocket to retrieve his cell phone to call the police, but suddenly he felt someone pulling him away from the house and out of the yard. He heard a loud rumbling sound, then everything went dark.
The young man woke up with a start. He was lying in bed, and it was still dark. His cell phone was ringing. He reached out to answer it but realized that someone was shaking him. He tried to open his eyes, but it was very difficult because of the brightness in his room.
He pulled the blankets back and sat up in bed. It was the middle of the night, and he could hear the sounds of car alarms going off in the distance. He listened intently for a moment, and he knew he was right.
The sound of car horns and sirens could be heard all over the neighborhood. He remembered that he had been having bad dreams, and now he had woken up in the middle of a nightmare.
He didn’t remember what he dreamed about, but he did remember something about being pulled out of bed by someone, so he wondered who was shaking him. He couldn’t see anyone, but he knew someone was there.
He threw back the covers, stood up, and went over to his computer to check the news on Facebook. There were hundreds of posts about a terrible accident. The local TV station reported that there were ten fatalities, including four children, and two more people had been critically injured.
His heart began to pound. His legs felt as if they would give out on him any second. He took several deep breaths until his heart calmed down. He could feel that he was in shock.
He quickly looked at the news site and saw that the accident happened right here, on the corner of his street. He leaned against the wall and took several deep breaths. He wanted to scream, but he could only whisper.
A man walked past him, then stopped to look at the window. His face was illuminated by the moonlight shining in through the window, and he had the strangest expression on his face.
“Are you okay?” the man asked in a gentle voice.
The young man nodded his head and said, “I’m fine, thanks.”
His friend put his hand on his shoulder and asked, “What happened? What’s wrong with you?”
“I can’t remember,” the young man whispered.
He stared into space and realized that it wasn’t just the dream that was causing his heart to race. Something terrible had happened.
The man took a deep breath and said, “I saw the same thing on the news. You must have had a really bad dream.”
He nodded his head, but he didn’t want to say anything more.
“You don’t need to worry about anything right now,” the man told him.
“Please get me some water,” the young man begged.
He tried to swallow, but he couldn’t because his throat felt so dry. The man went back into the kitchen and got him a glass of cold water.
He gulped it down as fast as he could and handed the empty cup back to his friend. He felt as if he were going to fall over.
His friend gave him another big sip of water and said, “You look like you’re going to throw up.”
The young man shook his head. He was too scared to talk.
He heard his friend getting something to eat, then the sound of his stomach growling. His friend came back into the room and handed him a bag of chips.
“Try to keep these down,” his friend told him.
The young man took the bag of chips and slowly began to eat them. His hands were shaking again, so he decided he needed to get dressed. He pulled on his sweatpants and shirt and put on his slippers.
His friend looked at him with concern. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you home? You probably shouldn’t walk around on your own right now.”
The young man nodded his head and said, “No, I’m fine. Let’s go.”
“But you look like you need someone to take care of you,” his friend said.
“I’ll be okay,” he whispered.
He didn’t know why, but something inside him told him he was all right, and it was going to be all right. He had to trust that.
He grabbed his coat and walked out of the house, but when he turned the corner, he heard his friend yelling his name.
He ran back to his apartment and opened the door.
His friend was standing in the living room.
“What happened?” the man asked.
He tried to open his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t. His throat was very dry, and he felt like he was choking. He stumbled to his room, pulled on a jacket, and hurried down the stairs.
His friend caught up with him as he stepped off the porch and said, “Do you need some help?”
The young man shook his head and said, “No, I’m okay.”
They started walking down the street together, but then the young man stopped and looked back at the house. There were lights on inside his bedroom window, but he couldn’t hear the TV or anyone moving around.
He wondered what time it was. The sun wasn’t coming up yet, and the sky was still dark, but there were some people leaving their homes.
He turned to his friend and said, “Let’s go.”
They started to walk toward the bus stop, but the young man looked over at the house again. There was a police car parked outside the house, and he could see the officers talking to a neighbor. A big truck had come from the construction site and was blocking the driveway.
“What’s going on?” the young man asked.
“Someone called the cops because of the accident,” his friend said.
The young man looked back at the house and saw a few people staring out of the window, watching what was happening.
The neighbor told the officers, “I heard the crash and thought I’d better tell you about it. I didn’t see anything, but I came out to make sure there was no damage to my property. I haven’t seen a car around here before. You guys find him?”
“Not yet,” one of the officers said.
“Is that your car?” the other officer asked him.
The young man looked at his car, which was resting up against a tree. It was smashed in on the side and was on its roof. His friend grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the scene.
“Let’s get to the bus stop,” the man said.
“Why? What are we doing?” the young man asked.
His friend didn’t answer. He kept walking toward the bus stop and then pointed down at the car.
“If the car hadn’t been parked there,” his friend said, “you wouldn’t have been hit by that truck.”
The young man looked up at the sky, and he knew it was going to be all right.
“Who called the cops?” he asked.
“Your friend,” the neighbor replied. “He’s the one who called them when he saw the accident.”
The young man shook his head. He couldn’t believe that. The whole thing was his fault.
***
When he got home, the young man went into his room and started looking through his bookshelf. His mother had given him a new one last Christmas, and he was excited to find out if there were any books that she had picked just for him.
As he began to look through the titles, he noticed something strange: all of his books seemed to be missing. Every single one was gone.
He walked over to the closet and pulled open the doors. There was nothing inside except for a few old clothes he didn’t care about, and a couple of boxes.
He walked back to his room and sat on the floor in front of the empty shelves. He tried to think why someone might have taken the books, but he didn’t know.
He looked under the bed. His backpack was lying there, with everything in it still intact.
He walked back to the closet and opened the doors.
All of the boxes were gone.
He walked down the hall, past his father’s room, and went into the living room. The TV was on, and his mom was sitting on the couch.
“How did your test go?” she asked him.
The young man nodded. “I didn’t do so well.”
He couldn’t tell her what had happened, and he knew he would be in trouble if he told anyone. His parents wouldn’t believe him if he said he fell asleep at the bus stop. It wasn’t his fault that he had been hit by a truck.
His mother reached over and put her hand on his shoulder. He could see that she was trying not to look upset or angry.
“Why don’t you lie down?” she said. “You must be tired from all of that studying.”
“Okay,” he said.
She got up off of the couch and walked out of the room, leaving him alone with the TV.
He stayed in his room until after dinner. Then he walked into the kitchen and saw his father sitting at the table, reading a newspaper. His father glanced up and said hello.
The young man shook his head and didn’t answer. He grabbed some leftover food and started eating.
After he finished, he walked into the living room and sat next to his dad.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
His father turned away and continued reading.
The young man went back to his room and pulled the blanket off of his bed. He threw it onto the floor and crawled under. The floor was cold, but he didn’t care.
He pulled his pillow over his head. He heard the TV in the living room go on and then the sound of his dad shutting off the lights.
His room was dark and quiet, and he knew that no one would find him there.
He closed his eyes and tried not to think about what had happened earlier.
***
He didn’t know how long he had been there. It could have been a couple of hours or even all day. But he didn’t feel hungry anymore, so he figured that meant it hadn’t been that long.
He felt safe where he was. His mom and dad didn’t seem like they cared about him anymore. His friends were probably too busy with their own lives to want to hang out with him. All he needed was his books.
He started looking through his old ones. They were all old and yellow, and most of them had cracked spines and torn pages. There wasn’t much else to do, though, so he just kept reading.
After a while, the door opened, and he knew it was his dad.
“You can come out now,” he heard his father say.
The young man pulled his head out from under his blanket and looked up. His dad was standing in the doorway of his room, holding something wrapped up in a plastic bag.
“Here’s your new bookcase,” the man said. “I put it in your closet for you.”
The young man couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The box was still sealed. His dad must have gotten it at the store that afternoon. He couldn’t imagine why he would have done that.
“You don’t understand,” the young man said. “There’s no room for a bookcase in my closet. I’m not taking this. You shouldn’t have bought me another one.”
His father shook his head. “You have to take it,” he said. “It’s yours. Now, give it to me and get your clothes on. Your mom wants us to go out.”
The young man didn’t want to. He wanted to stay in his room and keep reading. But his father was standing in his way, blocking the door.
“Go get changed,” his dad said.
“I want to sleep,” he told him.
His father looked like he was going to say something, but he turned away and walked out of the room.
The young man sighed and got up off of his bed. He reached into the back of the closet and grabbed the box. It was heavier than he thought it would be, even with all of the books inside.
He took it out and walked over to his closet door. His dad had left it open.
The young man set the box down in front of it. He slid a few of his old books inside, then put the box on top of them. Then he pushed the books around to hide the box so that only his dad would see it if he came in here.
He pulled his clothes off of the floor and started putting them back on. His dad had washed them and folded them neatly for him, as he did every night. He had done the same thing the previous night, too. But now he couldn’t remember why.
After he was dressed, he walked down the stairs. His dad was sitting at the table drinking coffee.
“Good morning,” he said.
The young man shook his head. “I want to go back to bed,” he told him.
“We’re going out for dinner. You need to get dressed,” the man said.
The young man frowned and turned to walk away from his dad. But his dad got up out of his chair and blocked his path.
“You have to take that bookcase,” he said.
The young man turned around again and stared at his father. He didn’t want to do this.
“This is ridiculous!” he shouted.
His dad sighed. “Fine,” he said. “I’m leaving you alone to read.”
The young man looked at the box in his father’s hands. He didn’t understand why he would keep doing this to him, and he couldn’t figure out how to make things any better between them. He wanted to yell at his dad, but instead, he just nodded his head and went into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee.
He knew that if he told his dad that he wanted to be alone, then he would go to his room and lock the door. If that happened, he wouldn’t be able to come back out until the man gave him permission. So he didn’t say anything about wanting to be alone.
After he had finished making his coffee, he sat down at the table and drank it. He felt tired and he had no idea why. He thought maybe it was because he hadn’t slept well last night.
As he sat there thinking, though, he realized something strange: He was seeing double. He could see his own face reflected on the wall, but in the reflection next to it, he could also see someone else’s face.
He couldn’t believe what he was seeing, but when he blinked, he still saw it. It was like the other person was in front of his eyes. But how could he see another person in front of his eyes?
The young man tried to shake his head. He closed his eyes and opened them again, but the other face still stared out at him.
“Who is this?” he whispered.
He knew what his dad had told him before: When you’re in your room and you look out the window, there’s someone else looking back at you. It’s just someone who’s been watching you from inside the house. They can’t talk or do anything, because they’re a ghost.
But he hadn’t ever really believed his father. He didn’t believe that there were ghosts in the house. Even though his mom had told him that she and her family had once lived in a house that was haunted. She’d said it was a terrible place and they hadn’t been able to stay there very long.
As he stared at the face that looked out at him from his own reflection, the young man suddenly remembered something his dad had said earlier that morning.
“Remember,” his dad had told him, “when you look out the window at night, there are people outside watching you. They won’t do anything to you, but I don’t want you to talk to them.”
And then the young man realized why he could see two faces in the mirror. He hadn’t actually seen one of them; he’d just thought he did because that was what his dad had told him. And he had thought it was just someone who had been watching him from the other side of the wall. But if it wasn’t someone else, then who was it?
It looked like it was the face of a boy, but that couldn’t be right. The face in the mirror wasn’t old enough to be a ghost. It couldn’t be his own reflection, either, because the face was different from the way his reflection normally looked.
The young man frowned. “Who is this?” he asked again.
He wanted to touch the face in the mirror. He wanted to push it away from him as if by touching it, he would know who the person really was. But he didn’t dare. If the face in the mirror started talking back to him, he might not know who it was. And he knew that he didn’t want anyone else in the house to talk to him. Not even his dad.
His hand went to his pocket, and then he remembered that he had put the bookcase down in the foyer earlier. He ran into the hall to get it and brought it back into the kitchen. Then he walked out of the room, still carrying it in front of him.
When he got to the end of the hallway, though, he stopped and turned around again. He looked at the bookcase and then he looked up and down the long, dark hall. He held the bookcase close to him so that no one else could grab it.
As he stood there thinking, he wondered what he should do now. Should he just leave the bookcase in the hallway or should he take it back into his room? He had always been told not to put things on top of the bookcase in the foyer, so he decided he would just carry it down the hall and put it back where it had originally been.
When he got to the end of the hall, though, he saw the door to his dad’s office open a little bit. There was light coming through the crack under the door. His mom’s voice could be heard, but he couldn’t tell what she was saying. And it sounded like there were two people standing behind her.
The End