Disclaimer: Yet again, I do not own "A Christmas Carol" or Newsies; they
belong to their rightful owners, which, unfortunately, aren't me. But enjoy
me version of them!
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Pulitzer woke with a start from his sleep. He heard the Church bell ring One O'clock. "The Spirits!" he cried out, and ducked under his covers as he heard his curtains get pulled back. After a few minutes, nothing happened, and he lifted the covers of his bed and saw in front of him a Spirit.
"What do you want from me?!" He cried out.
"Come with me, Pulitzer. You'll see in a minute." The Spirit said.
"What if I didn't want to?" Pulitzer asked.
"You have to." The Spirit said. Pulitzer, not wanting anything to happen got out of bed. 'Better to get this over with', he thought.
The Spirit walked to the window and held out his hand. "Grab onto me, and we'll go."
"We're going out the window! You have to remember, I can't fly!" Pulitzer said.
"There'll be no need to once you hold onto me. And don't let go." He warned.
Pulitzer sighed and grabbed the Spirit's hand. "Off we go!" the Spirit cried, and the room dissolved right in front of his eyes. When the blackness turned into light again, he wasn't sure where he was.
"Where did you take me?" Pulitzer asked.
"Look around, Pulitzer." The Spirit said.
Pulitzer felt there was no need to look around, but he did, and what he saw was very familiar. "Why. why, this was my home!" Pulitzer cried out, for once, happily.
"It is. Now watch." The Spirit commanded. Pulitzer did what he was told, and in a minute, a little girl came into the room.
"Sarah!" He called out. "Sarah!! It's me, Sarah! It's me, Joseph!"
"She cannot see you. No one can. You are just a visitor in Christmas past."
Pulitzer instantly became sad, and he watched his sister hang up her stocking on the fireplace. He heard her sigh, staring at the place beside it. Their mother walked into the room, and smiled at the girl.
"I wish Joseph was here." Sarah said. "Why did he go off to school?"
"He had too. You know your step-father; he doesn't want him in the same place as him." Her mother said.
"Why did they start fighting, mother?" Sarah asked.
"I don't know, Sarah. I don't know."
The room, again, dissolved, and once again came back to light. But they were in a different place, a place far away from Pulitzer's childhood home- his boarding school. Pulitzer sat by himself, hunched in front of the fire, warming his hands. The old Pulitzer became sadder still. This Christmas had been one of the worst. He thought again of everything that had happened: It was his first Christmas away from home, and all the other students had gone home for the holidays, but not him. He wasn't wanted at home- at least, he thought he had not been wanted. So he spent that Christmas alone, with no Santa or trees or stockings.
"Spirit, why are you showing me this? How can this help me?" Pulitzer asked.
"It is something you needed to see." The Spirit explained. He grabbed onto Pulitzer, and again the room dissolved and became brighter. Only this time, they were outside in the rain, semi-shaded by large pine trees. Not that it mattered; the rain fell through them anyway.
"Where are we now?" Pulitzer asked.
Instead of answering, the Spirit pointed to a group of boys a few feet away from them, gathered around a make-shift fire. "Do you know them?"
Pulitzer shook his head, but the Spirit shooed him forward so he could see their faces. And, indeed, he knew who all of them were. "It's Jimmy! And Andrew! And there's Mark and Evan! And over there- why, that's me!"
"Yes, it is." The Spirit said.
Pulitzer smiled as he looked around at the "guys". He knew all of them well. They were the best friends he ever had. They went through thick and thin together, because they were his war buddies. He became quiet, listening to what they were saying, and smiling more so as he heard all their voices once more.
"It's twelve o'clock, one the dot." Jimmy said. "Merry Christmas!"
"And what's so merry about it, Jimmy? We're in the pouring rain, in the middle of no where, fightin' the Confederates!" Mark cried, always the pessimist.
"Stop jabbering, Mark! It's Christmas, a time to be HAPPY." Jimmy cried.
"How can I? I'm in a whole different state then my family. I can't be happy about that."
"Well, we should make the best of what we have." Evan said. The older Pulitzer stared at him sadly. His friend had always been a sickly one. No one was sure how he got into the army, but he wasn't doing well. The old Pulitzer could see he had bags under his eyes and he was pale and coughing a lot. But the young Pulitzer and the rest didn't notice it, not until it was too late, and poor Evan died.
"What do we have?" Mark asked.
"We have each other." The young Pulitzer said.
"Joe's right, you know. We should celebrate! How about some songs?" Andrew said. "My favorite has always been."
Jimmy cut him off, saying good-naturedly, "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. We should know. You've sang it every day since the beginning of December!"
"Well, I like We Wish You a Merry Christmas." Evan said.
"We'll sing it loud enough for both the armies to hear!" Andrew shouted. And they did. Even Mark, who got caught up in the Christmas Spirit. Pulitzer began to cry, remembering that Christmas.
"I don't understand, Spirit! How have I become so cold?!" he cried, already beginning to change.
The spirit looked down sadly at him, and held on to him so that everything became black. When they could see again, they were in an empty room that Pulitzer would know anywhere.
"It's my new house. Well, my old house. The one I got when I first got started in the family business." Pulitzer said. He looked around at the small house, with only one floor and a bedroom, living room, and kitchen. But it was cozy, and nothing could have been better.
A young Pulitzer walked into the room, holding the hand of Emily. "Emily!" old Pulitzer cried. "Oh, Spirit! Why did you show me Emily?!"
The Spirit said nothing, and Pulitzer listened.
"Merry Christmas, Emily! Let this new year be successful, as this last one has!" the young Pulitzer said.
Emily stood on tip-toe and kissed him. "I hope so, Joe."
Pulitzer smiled down at her. "My dear, I think the party is waiting for us!"
Emily nodded and they walked out the door as everything turned black again. When again they could see, they were inside Pulitzer's office. Pulitzer himself was sitting at the desk, and Emily walked in. Though Pulitzer seemed to have grown older, Emily looked the same.
"Joe, you ought to come home. It's Christmas Eve!" Emily began.
"I can't, Emily. I can't leave my work. I need to figure out what to do now, the last paper didn't make nearly enough money that it should have!"
"But you sold all but twenty papers!" Emily cried, astonished.
"That may be true, but they all should have sold!" Pulitzer cried. "I need to figure this out."
"Couldn't you do that after Christmas?" Emily pleaded.
Pulitzer looked up at her with cold eyes. "No, I cannot. Now go back home."
Emily lowered her head, and was halfway out the door when she turned back. "No, Joseph. I will not go back."
Pulitzer looked up from his desk. "What do you mean?"
"I've had it. I'm leaving. I will not spend my time with you any longer. You've changed, Joseph. You're not the same person. I feel like I've lost you."
"I'm right here, Emily."
"No. You're not the same person I fell in love with. He died when you became manager. I can't live with you, Joseph. You're not Joe anymore." With that, Emily walked out, and Pulitzer never saw her again.
"Spirit! No, don't show me anything more! Bring me home, Spirit, please!" Pulitzer cried. How could he have done that? Emily was the love of his life!
The Spirit nodded, and the next place Pulitzer found himself was in his bed, and the Spirit was gone. And Pulitzer felt tired. So very tired. He laid his head down, and he was in a deep sleep.
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Another chapter finished! I'm rolling on this story!! LoL!! And I HAD to make Pulitzer go back to Christmas during the Civil War. You remember that part, when he says "I was in a war! The Civil War!" Too perfect to pass up. I hope you enjoyed this!! I'll get the next chapters up soon, too.
I find it really funny that this is one of the longer stories chapter-wise that I've written, and yet I'm writing it so much faster than the rest of them. lol. Probably 'cause I already know the plot, like, backwards and forwards.
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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Pulitzer woke with a start from his sleep. He heard the Church bell ring One O'clock. "The Spirits!" he cried out, and ducked under his covers as he heard his curtains get pulled back. After a few minutes, nothing happened, and he lifted the covers of his bed and saw in front of him a Spirit.
"What do you want from me?!" He cried out.
"Come with me, Pulitzer. You'll see in a minute." The Spirit said.
"What if I didn't want to?" Pulitzer asked.
"You have to." The Spirit said. Pulitzer, not wanting anything to happen got out of bed. 'Better to get this over with', he thought.
The Spirit walked to the window and held out his hand. "Grab onto me, and we'll go."
"We're going out the window! You have to remember, I can't fly!" Pulitzer said.
"There'll be no need to once you hold onto me. And don't let go." He warned.
Pulitzer sighed and grabbed the Spirit's hand. "Off we go!" the Spirit cried, and the room dissolved right in front of his eyes. When the blackness turned into light again, he wasn't sure where he was.
"Where did you take me?" Pulitzer asked.
"Look around, Pulitzer." The Spirit said.
Pulitzer felt there was no need to look around, but he did, and what he saw was very familiar. "Why. why, this was my home!" Pulitzer cried out, for once, happily.
"It is. Now watch." The Spirit commanded. Pulitzer did what he was told, and in a minute, a little girl came into the room.
"Sarah!" He called out. "Sarah!! It's me, Sarah! It's me, Joseph!"
"She cannot see you. No one can. You are just a visitor in Christmas past."
Pulitzer instantly became sad, and he watched his sister hang up her stocking on the fireplace. He heard her sigh, staring at the place beside it. Their mother walked into the room, and smiled at the girl.
"I wish Joseph was here." Sarah said. "Why did he go off to school?"
"He had too. You know your step-father; he doesn't want him in the same place as him." Her mother said.
"Why did they start fighting, mother?" Sarah asked.
"I don't know, Sarah. I don't know."
The room, again, dissolved, and once again came back to light. But they were in a different place, a place far away from Pulitzer's childhood home- his boarding school. Pulitzer sat by himself, hunched in front of the fire, warming his hands. The old Pulitzer became sadder still. This Christmas had been one of the worst. He thought again of everything that had happened: It was his first Christmas away from home, and all the other students had gone home for the holidays, but not him. He wasn't wanted at home- at least, he thought he had not been wanted. So he spent that Christmas alone, with no Santa or trees or stockings.
"Spirit, why are you showing me this? How can this help me?" Pulitzer asked.
"It is something you needed to see." The Spirit explained. He grabbed onto Pulitzer, and again the room dissolved and became brighter. Only this time, they were outside in the rain, semi-shaded by large pine trees. Not that it mattered; the rain fell through them anyway.
"Where are we now?" Pulitzer asked.
Instead of answering, the Spirit pointed to a group of boys a few feet away from them, gathered around a make-shift fire. "Do you know them?"
Pulitzer shook his head, but the Spirit shooed him forward so he could see their faces. And, indeed, he knew who all of them were. "It's Jimmy! And Andrew! And there's Mark and Evan! And over there- why, that's me!"
"Yes, it is." The Spirit said.
Pulitzer smiled as he looked around at the "guys". He knew all of them well. They were the best friends he ever had. They went through thick and thin together, because they were his war buddies. He became quiet, listening to what they were saying, and smiling more so as he heard all their voices once more.
"It's twelve o'clock, one the dot." Jimmy said. "Merry Christmas!"
"And what's so merry about it, Jimmy? We're in the pouring rain, in the middle of no where, fightin' the Confederates!" Mark cried, always the pessimist.
"Stop jabbering, Mark! It's Christmas, a time to be HAPPY." Jimmy cried.
"How can I? I'm in a whole different state then my family. I can't be happy about that."
"Well, we should make the best of what we have." Evan said. The older Pulitzer stared at him sadly. His friend had always been a sickly one. No one was sure how he got into the army, but he wasn't doing well. The old Pulitzer could see he had bags under his eyes and he was pale and coughing a lot. But the young Pulitzer and the rest didn't notice it, not until it was too late, and poor Evan died.
"What do we have?" Mark asked.
"We have each other." The young Pulitzer said.
"Joe's right, you know. We should celebrate! How about some songs?" Andrew said. "My favorite has always been."
Jimmy cut him off, saying good-naturedly, "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. We should know. You've sang it every day since the beginning of December!"
"Well, I like We Wish You a Merry Christmas." Evan said.
"We'll sing it loud enough for both the armies to hear!" Andrew shouted. And they did. Even Mark, who got caught up in the Christmas Spirit. Pulitzer began to cry, remembering that Christmas.
"I don't understand, Spirit! How have I become so cold?!" he cried, already beginning to change.
The spirit looked down sadly at him, and held on to him so that everything became black. When they could see again, they were in an empty room that Pulitzer would know anywhere.
"It's my new house. Well, my old house. The one I got when I first got started in the family business." Pulitzer said. He looked around at the small house, with only one floor and a bedroom, living room, and kitchen. But it was cozy, and nothing could have been better.
A young Pulitzer walked into the room, holding the hand of Emily. "Emily!" old Pulitzer cried. "Oh, Spirit! Why did you show me Emily?!"
The Spirit said nothing, and Pulitzer listened.
"Merry Christmas, Emily! Let this new year be successful, as this last one has!" the young Pulitzer said.
Emily stood on tip-toe and kissed him. "I hope so, Joe."
Pulitzer smiled down at her. "My dear, I think the party is waiting for us!"
Emily nodded and they walked out the door as everything turned black again. When again they could see, they were inside Pulitzer's office. Pulitzer himself was sitting at the desk, and Emily walked in. Though Pulitzer seemed to have grown older, Emily looked the same.
"Joe, you ought to come home. It's Christmas Eve!" Emily began.
"I can't, Emily. I can't leave my work. I need to figure out what to do now, the last paper didn't make nearly enough money that it should have!"
"But you sold all but twenty papers!" Emily cried, astonished.
"That may be true, but they all should have sold!" Pulitzer cried. "I need to figure this out."
"Couldn't you do that after Christmas?" Emily pleaded.
Pulitzer looked up at her with cold eyes. "No, I cannot. Now go back home."
Emily lowered her head, and was halfway out the door when she turned back. "No, Joseph. I will not go back."
Pulitzer looked up from his desk. "What do you mean?"
"I've had it. I'm leaving. I will not spend my time with you any longer. You've changed, Joseph. You're not the same person. I feel like I've lost you."
"I'm right here, Emily."
"No. You're not the same person I fell in love with. He died when you became manager. I can't live with you, Joseph. You're not Joe anymore." With that, Emily walked out, and Pulitzer never saw her again.
"Spirit! No, don't show me anything more! Bring me home, Spirit, please!" Pulitzer cried. How could he have done that? Emily was the love of his life!
The Spirit nodded, and the next place Pulitzer found himself was in his bed, and the Spirit was gone. And Pulitzer felt tired. So very tired. He laid his head down, and he was in a deep sleep.
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Another chapter finished! I'm rolling on this story!! LoL!! And I HAD to make Pulitzer go back to Christmas during the Civil War. You remember that part, when he says "I was in a war! The Civil War!" Too perfect to pass up. I hope you enjoyed this!! I'll get the next chapters up soon, too.
I find it really funny that this is one of the longer stories chapter-wise that I've written, and yet I'm writing it so much faster than the rest of them. lol. Probably 'cause I already know the plot, like, backwards and forwards.
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!