A light encompasses the room, dissolving it, and then the whole world, into white nothingness. It's deathly silent. A minute or two pass like this, with Lovino standing, frozen like a statue, waiting for something to occur. Eventually, color returns to the world. It's imperceptible at first, for the scene being painted as if on a canvas is one full of snow. The world unfolds around Lovino—snow covering nearly every surface and still coming, falling from the sky; shrieks of joy and laughter, much like those of Peter; the whoosh of cars on the street behind him; and standing just before him, Lovino's childhood mansion in Italy.
His mouth is agape. Two little boys dash around the side of the home and enter Lovino's view. To his shock, he knows them. In fact, he is one. The younger version of Lovino, only 6 years old, runs close to the street. Lovino remembers this. It was Christmas day, and he and his little brother Feliciano had received new mittens and a sled. They'd promptly gone to play outside. Memory-Feliciano throws a snowball at memory-Lovino. In an attempt to dodge it, he flees into the road, oblivious to the possibility of oncoming traffic. He will not let Feli win, and that's all that matters to him right now.
"Wait, Lovi, stop! That's dangerous," young Feliciano insists, standing a foot away from the road.
"Ha! You just want me to come back so you can get me. Don't be a chicken, Feli, come and get me!"
Feliciano's eyes grow round and wide. "Lovi, look! There's a car coming!" he shrieks. He flails his arms around to get his older brother's attention, but Lovi ignores him as he continues to shout taunts. The door to the house swings open. Out steps Romulus, who has heard his grandson's yelling and commotion. He sees what's going on, runs to a startled Lovino, and carries him off of the street, within moments of the car passing.
I never was a very good kid, huh, the present Lovino thinks. Suddenly, someone materializes in front of him, causing him to stumble backwards. Oddly enough, the person reminds Lovino of David. They look almost exactly alike, though this being appears much younger.
"Hello! I'm the Ghost of Christmas Past! It's a pleasure to meet you!"
Oh bother, he was an excited little gremlin. "Um, whatever, hi. Whadd'ya want? Why am I here?"
"I want to show you your past Christmases, as my name implies. As you can see, this is the Christmas when you were 6 and Feli was 5. Walk with me—there's more I'd like to show you," the Ghost of Christmas Past proclaims.
Nervously Lovino complies, following after the boy. As they walk side by side, the setting shifts, falls away, and reforms, a multitude of times. They progress through the Lovino's Christmases. Among them, there was the year his youngest brother Marchello was born, and Lovino couldn't help but feel as if, once more, he was being thrust aside, unwanted, not good enough. Another year Feliciano had returned from the private art middle school for Christmas, and again, no one paid attention to Lovino.
On his 14th Christmas he was in America for the first time, living with a distant relative, after Romulus had died in a tragic car accident. The next year, he celebrated at David's party, where he met Antonio. Each year until Lovino's 18th Christmas, that was where he celebrated it, surrounded by Feli, Marchello, David, Abel, Emma, and other party-goers. The year Lovino was 18, he sat alone in his dorm room; Feliciano had been accepted into a prestigious art-focused college while Lovino had long ago given up his dream of being an artist and had moved onto being a businessman. He did well in the college, but he was too resentful of his failure in art to return home for the holidays. Feliciano was too busy to visit him, and Marchello had school to deal with.
From that point on, Lovino, too, was far too overwhelmed with his life as an adult to make plans and visit relatives for Christmas. The day had become something negative to him anyways. Each year he sat alone, in his dark house, counting down the days until Christmas was over. He had inherited a fair share of Romulus's money, and had prospered as a businessman as well, but although he feigned contentedness around his friends and family, he was unhappy with his life.
As Lovino relives these memories, his heart feels heavy with sadness. He yearns for the years he spent in Italy; although even then he felt intense jealousy towards his brothers, particularly Feliciano, it was a better time than now. Romulus was alive. Marchello and Feli were there. Hell, thinks Lovino, even the year I met Antonio at David's party was better than how things are currently. I had David, Abel, Emma, Feli, and Marchello. What do I have now? A boring job, my loneliness, money, and a big, dark, empty house.
What is the point of all of this?
Lovino's eyes begin to mist, and a single tear forms. It flows down his cheek like a river on a mountain, falling into a minuscule puddle at his feet. He struggles to hold back oncoming sobs. The Ghost of Christmas Past places his hand on his shoulder, a wisp of coolness and an attempt at comfort.
"I must go know," he states simply.
Once again, the world falls away into whiteness, silence, and blankness.
