Christine, unsettling by the appearance of her Father's ghost and his message to her frightened her. She got out of bed and went downstairs insisting that she had dreamed it all. She made a cup of hot tea and sat sipping it at the kitchen table. The longer she sat there, the more she believed she had been dreaming, but she still could not shake the words he had spoken. If she were indeed dreaming, then her subconscious was trying to tell her something. She heard the clock in the foyer chime ten o' clock. Still no sign of Raoul. He would probably be out until well after midnight. He usually was.
She went to the stairs and started to ascend them up to her bedroom when she saw a figure standing in the darkened hallway below.
"Raoul?" she called, thinking it was he and she had just not heard him enter when she was making a racket in the kitchen.
"No Christine. I am not Raoul," the figure stepped out of the darkness into the light of her candelabra and stood before her. He was dressed in a long crimson robe and had a deathly pallor spread across his unusual face.
"Who are you? What are you doing in my house?"
The figure took a few slow steps towards her and spoke at long last, "Did your father not tell you of my coming? Did you not know that you were to be visited?"
Christine, shocked to realize that she had not dreamt the appearance of her dead father's ghost answered him, "Yes he did tell me. And I know why you are here, but who are you?"
"I am the ghost of Christmases past."
"And what are your intentions with me?"
"Come with me and I will show you," he replied, "Touch my hand and I will show you my intentions."
Christine was absolutely terrified, but she crept down the stairs to the smiling apparition and took his hand. A cold gust of wind hit her in the face and she felt herself leave the ground. When she opened her eyes again, she was standing in snow, but was not cold, outside a house she would recognize anywhere.
"This is..."
"Yes, this is your home where you grew up in Sweden."
Christine peered through the window of the house and was suddenly transported inside. She saw herself playing on the floor with a doll and their cat. She knelt beside her child self and turned towards the spirit.
"Does she not see me?"
"These are mere shadows of the past. They are unaware of the future."
Christine watched the child image of her own self dance across the room and hop into her father's lap with a squeal of delight. "Oh Papa! This will be the most wonderful Christmas ever!"
"I know it will be! Now run along and help your mother in the kitchen like a good little girl."
"Okay Papa," she replied and ran into the other room.
Christine followed the girl and fell to the floor as she gazed on her own mother, just as she remembered her.
"Oh Christine! You look so pretty in that new dress! You can help me, but be sure not to get it dirty. You must look well for church in the morning!" her mother exclaimed as she helped her daughter onto a chair to reach the counter.
"Spirit, why have you brought me here?"
"To show you that your childhood was not always as sad as you remember it."
Her mother and the child went to the other room to join her Papa and little Christine dashed to the Christmas tree. "Oh Mama, can't I open just one present early? Please?"
Her mother smiled at her and said, "Well, I supposed you can open just one tonight."
Little Christine squealed with delight as she grasped a package in her chubby little hands and tore into it. She pulled out a red scarf that her mother had knitted for her.
"It might be a little big for you, but it will match your dress so well for the church ceremony tomorrow," her mother said, hugging her daughter, "Merry Christmas darling."
"Merry Christmas Mama!"
The spirit took Christine's hand and once again she found herself transported through time. When she opened her eyes, they had not moved from the spot, but the scenery had changed. The house they stood in now was dark and gray. There were not festive decorations hanging and no wonderful smells coming from the kitchen. Christine heard a cough from upstairs and followed it.
She pushed the door open and saw her mother lying on the bed, her child self and her Papa sitting by her side. Her mother was now a shriveled reflection of the year before when she had been bubbly and beautiful. She grasped the child's hand and choked out, "You must take care of your father now, and be a brave little girl."
"Mama, no! You can't go away now."
"I'm sorry my angel, but my time has come. Please take care of him. Promise me you will look after your papa."
She smiled weakly then closed her eyes forever.
Christine cried at the sight of the painful memory and turned angrily to the spirit. "Why did you bring me here to see this? Does it amuse you to hurt people like so?"
The Spirit looked on her without moved emotion, "I brought you here to show you something you had forgotten. Your mother made you very happy and you loved her dearly. Come, there is much more to show you."
"No, no more! I don't want to see anymore!" she cried, but she took his hand anyway, wanting to escape the scene before her.
They were whisked away through the sands of time to a more recent past. Christine recognized it at once. They were standing in her flat in Paris, and her father was on the bed dying.
"No, I won't look. I won't watch my Father die again as well!" Christine cried out.
The spirit took her shoulders and turned her towards the scene of her father, "You will look and you will understand that everything that you see tonight has already happened and there can be nothing to change these events. You must also realize that you are not at fault for his death. I know you blame yourself every day for this, but he died out of no cause of anything you did."
Christine watched her sixteen-year-old figure leaning over her father weeping and she begged, "Please, take me away from this! I cannot bear any more."
"Very well," he replied, "but I have one more thing to show you."
Christine nodded her head and took his hand one last time. Her heart nearly leapt out of her chest when she heard his voice. She opened her eyes to find herself in her dressing room at the opera. She was witnessing one of her music lessons.
"Angel, please sing to me one more song," she begged.
Erik's voice rang out though the mirror, "Anything you wish. Anything at all." He began to sing an Italian love song, which made Christine weep at the memory, of how it all happened.
"Spirit, why did you bring me here?"
"I brought you here to show you, that when you were with Erik, before the innocence of his façade was destroyed, you did love him. As much as you try to deny it, I know you love him still."
"I want to call out to him now and tell him that, but I know he could not hear me."
"That is true," the spirit said, "but remember, these are things that you must stop regretting. Nothing can be done to change the past. Our time here has faded."
Christine now realized the shadow her herself and of Erik were now gone from the room and the spirit before her had aged considerably before her eyes. "What will happen now? Am I to return to the present time now?"
"Yes, come with me."
When Christine came to once again, she was back in her bedroom, tucked into her bed as though she never left it. She called after the spirit, but she knew he was gone. She left the comfort of her blankets to tease the fire in the hearth and took up residence in the chair next to it. She knew there would be another spirit coming and wondered what painful things he would show her next.
She went to the stairs and started to ascend them up to her bedroom when she saw a figure standing in the darkened hallway below.
"Raoul?" she called, thinking it was he and she had just not heard him enter when she was making a racket in the kitchen.
"No Christine. I am not Raoul," the figure stepped out of the darkness into the light of her candelabra and stood before her. He was dressed in a long crimson robe and had a deathly pallor spread across his unusual face.
"Who are you? What are you doing in my house?"
The figure took a few slow steps towards her and spoke at long last, "Did your father not tell you of my coming? Did you not know that you were to be visited?"
Christine, shocked to realize that she had not dreamt the appearance of her dead father's ghost answered him, "Yes he did tell me. And I know why you are here, but who are you?"
"I am the ghost of Christmases past."
"And what are your intentions with me?"
"Come with me and I will show you," he replied, "Touch my hand and I will show you my intentions."
Christine was absolutely terrified, but she crept down the stairs to the smiling apparition and took his hand. A cold gust of wind hit her in the face and she felt herself leave the ground. When she opened her eyes again, she was standing in snow, but was not cold, outside a house she would recognize anywhere.
"This is..."
"Yes, this is your home where you grew up in Sweden."
Christine peered through the window of the house and was suddenly transported inside. She saw herself playing on the floor with a doll and their cat. She knelt beside her child self and turned towards the spirit.
"Does she not see me?"
"These are mere shadows of the past. They are unaware of the future."
Christine watched the child image of her own self dance across the room and hop into her father's lap with a squeal of delight. "Oh Papa! This will be the most wonderful Christmas ever!"
"I know it will be! Now run along and help your mother in the kitchen like a good little girl."
"Okay Papa," she replied and ran into the other room.
Christine followed the girl and fell to the floor as she gazed on her own mother, just as she remembered her.
"Oh Christine! You look so pretty in that new dress! You can help me, but be sure not to get it dirty. You must look well for church in the morning!" her mother exclaimed as she helped her daughter onto a chair to reach the counter.
"Spirit, why have you brought me here?"
"To show you that your childhood was not always as sad as you remember it."
Her mother and the child went to the other room to join her Papa and little Christine dashed to the Christmas tree. "Oh Mama, can't I open just one present early? Please?"
Her mother smiled at her and said, "Well, I supposed you can open just one tonight."
Little Christine squealed with delight as she grasped a package in her chubby little hands and tore into it. She pulled out a red scarf that her mother had knitted for her.
"It might be a little big for you, but it will match your dress so well for the church ceremony tomorrow," her mother said, hugging her daughter, "Merry Christmas darling."
"Merry Christmas Mama!"
The spirit took Christine's hand and once again she found herself transported through time. When she opened her eyes, they had not moved from the spot, but the scenery had changed. The house they stood in now was dark and gray. There were not festive decorations hanging and no wonderful smells coming from the kitchen. Christine heard a cough from upstairs and followed it.
She pushed the door open and saw her mother lying on the bed, her child self and her Papa sitting by her side. Her mother was now a shriveled reflection of the year before when she had been bubbly and beautiful. She grasped the child's hand and choked out, "You must take care of your father now, and be a brave little girl."
"Mama, no! You can't go away now."
"I'm sorry my angel, but my time has come. Please take care of him. Promise me you will look after your papa."
She smiled weakly then closed her eyes forever.
Christine cried at the sight of the painful memory and turned angrily to the spirit. "Why did you bring me here to see this? Does it amuse you to hurt people like so?"
The Spirit looked on her without moved emotion, "I brought you here to show you something you had forgotten. Your mother made you very happy and you loved her dearly. Come, there is much more to show you."
"No, no more! I don't want to see anymore!" she cried, but she took his hand anyway, wanting to escape the scene before her.
They were whisked away through the sands of time to a more recent past. Christine recognized it at once. They were standing in her flat in Paris, and her father was on the bed dying.
"No, I won't look. I won't watch my Father die again as well!" Christine cried out.
The spirit took her shoulders and turned her towards the scene of her father, "You will look and you will understand that everything that you see tonight has already happened and there can be nothing to change these events. You must also realize that you are not at fault for his death. I know you blame yourself every day for this, but he died out of no cause of anything you did."
Christine watched her sixteen-year-old figure leaning over her father weeping and she begged, "Please, take me away from this! I cannot bear any more."
"Very well," he replied, "but I have one more thing to show you."
Christine nodded her head and took his hand one last time. Her heart nearly leapt out of her chest when she heard his voice. She opened her eyes to find herself in her dressing room at the opera. She was witnessing one of her music lessons.
"Angel, please sing to me one more song," she begged.
Erik's voice rang out though the mirror, "Anything you wish. Anything at all." He began to sing an Italian love song, which made Christine weep at the memory, of how it all happened.
"Spirit, why did you bring me here?"
"I brought you here to show you, that when you were with Erik, before the innocence of his façade was destroyed, you did love him. As much as you try to deny it, I know you love him still."
"I want to call out to him now and tell him that, but I know he could not hear me."
"That is true," the spirit said, "but remember, these are things that you must stop regretting. Nothing can be done to change the past. Our time here has faded."
Christine now realized the shadow her herself and of Erik were now gone from the room and the spirit before her had aged considerably before her eyes. "What will happen now? Am I to return to the present time now?"
"Yes, come with me."
When Christine came to once again, she was back in her bedroom, tucked into her bed as though she never left it. She called after the spirit, but she knew he was gone. She left the comfort of her blankets to tease the fire in the hearth and took up residence in the chair next to it. She knew there would be another spirit coming and wondered what painful things he would show her next.