Vivian and Ben sat cross-legged in front of the Christmas tree, Vivian holding tightly to her child. Violet stood, starring blankly out the window, completely oblivious to the world around her, living in her own world. Chad and Patrick stood arm-in-arm, giggling like little children, occasionally kissing eachother on the cheek, lips, neck. Nora sat, silently, watching Vivian and the child, while Dr. Charles looked at her. The twins, Bryan and Troy, ran around snapping bang-snaps at peoples feet and carrying baseball bats. Moira sat with her hands folded in her lap. The mistletoe hung in a doorway, swaying very slowly, at a very minimal pace.
"What now?" asked one of the ghosts of the house. "We've never really exactly celebrated Christmas..."
"Well," began Vivian, smiling grimly, "now would be about the time we would open Christmas presents, but..."
"Since we cant go into the outside world, or leave this house at all, that's impossible." Violet stated bluntly.
"Thank you, Violet," Ben said sarcastically. "But what we were thinking was we could-"
"Oh! I know! We could sit and tell stories! Bible stories, ghost stories, all kinds!" Moira said, enthusiastically, smiling wide.
"That sounds...fun," Vivian offered with a smile.
"Stories...?" Dr. Charles trailed off.
"Where's Tate? Im going to go find him." Violet said, standing up and brushing of the seat of her pants. She walked at first slowly, but then picked up her speed. Everyone watched her, as she left them behind in the room, before descending down into the basement in search of Tate. She whispered his name a few times, before walking further and further down the stairs. "Taaaaaaaate..? Please.. Where are you?" she whispered urgently. "I don't like it down here, you know that. Please.." She stood, peering into the pitch dark of the basement, before hearing whimpering and crying. "Tate?"
Tate lied in the corner, curled into a ball, crying. Violet approached him slowly, making sure not to alarm him. Slowly, slowly, she lowered to her knees. She lightly placed a hand on his back, which was heaving as he sobbed. He looked up at her for a moment, then, embarrassed, he hid his face again in his arms. "Violet..." he whispered, unsteady.
"Come on, Tate.. We're upstairs, sitting around the tree. Please come with me. I'm afraid of being down here. I've come this far looking for you, please don't make me go back through there alone.." she said, trembling. Tate stood up, and sighed. She looked into his eyes, red from crying. She hugged him and he lightly placed his hands on her back, after wiping tears from his own face.