=) Thanks for the comments... disclaimers the same
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Chapter Two: The First Visit
I awake again with a start and quickly push the hair out of my face and stare to the clock. The red numbers are shining viciously into the night. One AM.
"It was just a dream..." I assure myself aloud. "Just a dream."
But the cracks around my door begin to glow. The light is becoming stronger and it's almost blinding now...
A young girl is standing there, thin and short. Her long, straight blonde hair glitters in the light. I place my hand to my eyes to shield them from the light.
"Sorry I'm late," she says softly. "Last person took longer than I thought he would."
I stare at her, but can't find the words to say. Finally: "W-who are you?"
She smiles sweetly. "I am the Ghost of Christmas Past."
After a moment of silence she says "Take my hand."
I slowly reach out to her.
"Don't be afraid," she says, "You won't fall."
Suddenly, we're flying. I can see my apartment complex, and then the street, and then the city, and now all I can see are the clouds over it all.
I look up to her, past our connected hands. "Where are we going?" I ask.
"To your memories," she says, as she gathers more speed.
And as suddenly as it had all started, we had landed. We're now standing in front of a house, small and tattered. I know this house well.
I gasp. "I grew up here..." I say slowly.
She smiles, and with a blink of her eyes, we're inside.
A woman with short, red hair stands in the kitchen, slaving a stove which holds a quality sized ham, dressing, corn and peas on top.
I walk over to her. "Mom?" I ask, tears filing in my eyes. I expect her to turn to me, but she keeps cooking, as if ignoring me...
"She can't hear you," the Ghost says with an almost sad tone. "She's only a memory."
I turn my head to the living room. On the couch sits a red haired boy and a brown haired girl, reading a book together by the light of candles and the lights of the Christmas tree, laughing innocently.
I walk over to them in amazement. "That's Bobby!" I screech. "And that's Cassandra! They're my brother and sister!"
The Ghost smiles, but says nothing.
Suddenly, the other door swings open and in walks the man I had seen already tonight - my father. In his arms he holds a little red haired girl.
"That's me!" I say.
My mother turns around. "Hello, Alfred. Hello, Clarice. Ready for dinner yet?"
My father puts the miniature me on the ground and I run to my mother. "Yuppers!" Mini-myself screeches.
Bobby and Cassandra hop up from the couch and race to the kitchen. My mother places the food down on the table as everyone takes a seat.
The memory begins to fade.
I turn to the ghost. "Do we have to leave?"
"It is not a good thing to live in memories," she says.
Suddenly, we're in a long corridor. Once again, I see a younger version of myself; However, she is older now. Bobby and Cassandra are there, too. Cassandra's around 14, Bobby, 12, and myself, 10.
I watch as my mother walks out of a small room with her hand over her mouth.
"No.." the real me mutters. "No, please, no..." I had relived this scene many times in my life.
A young woman walks from the room my mother had just come from. I recognize her instantly.
The ghost must have realized this. "You knew her before this, didn't you?"
Still withholding tears from my eyes, I turn back to her. "My father was there for a month. I visited him everyday. Her name was Jackie. She helped me get through it..."
Jackie walked out of the room, her short, blonde hair limp behind her and her green eyes dark and aged.
"Your father's heart failed him. He's gone," she chokes. "I'm so sorry."
There was no reaction on the face of the younger me and her siblings. After a slight pause, Cassandra rises and leaves the room.
"Spirit, please. Don't torture me any longer."
She stares ahead to the room where the Young Me has leaned against Bobby, clutching him for dear life.
"What happened?" she asks.
I turn back to the scene myself. "My mother had already decided that she couldn't raise three children on her own. She already had the arrangements made. Two men from the Social Services arrived an hour later. I went with one in his car, Bobby went with the other. It was the last time I ever saw my mother or siblings."
The spirits face was saddened, but she still continued to stare.
"Please, Spirit..."
She sighs. "Very well."
In a heartbeat, we're in a small room. There sits two beds, two desks, and a dresser. The rooms a mess.
"My dorm room!" I screech happily. "I spent the best days of my life in this room."
A door to the far left opens, and a younger version of me walks out. We look exactly alike, minus she appears to be around ten years younger. She pulls a large pile of books off of the crowded dresser and tosses them on the desk, taking a seat.
The door opens again. A black girl with shoulder length, curly hair walks in.
"Hey, Ardelia," the younger me says, looking up from her books with a smile.
She stops in the center of the room. "Clarice, what on earth are you doing?"
The younger me stares at her, confused. "Wha-? I'm.. studying?"
"Three days before Christmas?" she squeaks. "Where are your bags?"
The younger me shrugs. "Christmas is a time for family, Delia. I don't have a family anymore."
"And what do you call me?" Ardelia says, with fake insult.
"Well.. you're my best friend and.."
"And I'm your sister. Now get your ass up and packed, you're coming home with me."
The younger me stares up at her, gawking. "You serious?"
"Of course," she says with a smile.
The younger me jumps up from a chair and throws her arms around Ardelia. "I love you, Delia!"
I turn to the Ghost. "I spent every Christmas after that with her. Her family accepted me like I was one of their own."
"Why aren't you there this year?" She asks.
I shrug. "After we graduated, it just kinda got old."
Before I even have the chance to blink my eyes, we're in a dark and cold place. I can make out cells to the left and right of me, and a chair down at the far end. Squinting, I can see a younger me, talking to someone inside one of the cells.
"Oh, God, no..." I say, as I jog up to the scene, the Ghost floating behind me.
"Back so soon, Clarice?" The man asks. "It's Christmas Eve. Don't you have some where to be?"
"I'm flying back there tonight, Doctor... now, please, just answer my questions."
"You could spend it with me, you know," he says with a devilish grin across his lips.
"Well, that's kind of you, Doctor, but really, can't you just ans-"
"How was Christmas at the orphanage, Clarice?"
"Doctor, plea-"
"Quid pro quo. I just told what I know for the night, now please fill me in on that... wonderful event."
The younger me sighs and looks to her feet for the answer. "We each got one present, it was donated by Old Man Richardson, who I guess had adopted a child from our orphanage before and was very pleased. There were organized activities, such as charades and a candy cane hunt. We played those most of the day. Then came dinner; One slice of ham, one scoop of potatoes, one roll, and a small glass of milk for each of us. A very slim cut piece of chocolate cake after dinner. It was better than even Thanksgiving to us. And then we were allowed to talk with our friends until ten o'clock, which was remarkably late at our age, and then we went to sleep. And the next day started over the same as the last."
"Did you enjoy Christmases there, Clarice?"
She looks up to his face, the lights hitting her face in odd angles. "No."
"You were too good for them, weren't you?"
"No, I ju-"
"Hush, Clarice. I know you far better than you know even yourself."
She stares at him for a second before rising. "I'm going to be late for my plane. Thank you, and Merry Christmas, Doctor Lecter."
He smiles. "Merry Christmas, Clarice."
The younger me begins to walk away, but not before: "Oh, Clarice..."
She turns back to him. "Yes?"
He smiles again. "Don't worry. You are better than them."
Neither the Ghost nor I say anything. There isn't anything to say.
With another blink of her eyes, we're in a small room, a tree tucked away in a far corner, the smell of food strong in all our noses. But, in the other corner, sits Ardelia and a younger me, me with a phone in my hands.
"Yes, I understand. I just thought that maybe you would like to see me. It's been over twelve years. Yes, I understand that. I said I understand, I'm not ten anymore. That's fine. I'm hanging up now, I won't contact you again. Sorry for interrupting your perfect life," I see the younger me saying, as she slams the phone down.
"Oh, Clarice..." Ardelia says, placing her arm around me.
"She knew that Bobby had passed away," the younger me says, crying. "She knew Mom had died because she went back to live with her when she was sixteen. She's married to a man named Michael now, and she has two children, Veronica, who's seven, and Robbie, who's five. She doesn't want to see me because her children don't know they have an aunt, and she doesn't want me.." the younger me sobs, "in her life... she said she wants nothing to do with me."
"Oh, C," she says, hugging the younger me tighter. "I'm so sorry."
"I was heartbroken," I say to the Ghost. "I had my hopes up so high, I wanted to see her again so badly."
The Ghost doesn't speak, but the memory has changed again.
I see myself. My hair is in a long pony tail, stuck in a refrigerator. The other me looks panicked, but she's trying to hide it.
Doctor Lecter is now hovering over me.
"Tell me, Clarice.. would you ever say to me 'Stop... if you loved me, you'd stop'?" He asks her.
There's a pause. "Not in a thousand years."
"I didn't want to say that, I didn't!" I screech to the Ghost, but she still doesn't speak.
"'Not in a thousand years'. That's my girl."
I watch as he leans in to kiss the younger me and find myself yelling "Kiss him back, you fool! Kiss him back!"
But all that happens is a click as a tear rolls down her cheek.
"Well, isn't this nice, Clarice? Just when I was pressed for time. Where's the key?" and then a pause, as she doesn't answer. "Where's the key?!"
Both the real me and the other watch in horror as he grabs a butcher knife from the table and sizes it around the other me's wrist. "Above or below the wrist, Clarice?"
She stares at him, horrified, as he lifts the knife into the air.
"But this didn't happen on Christmas!" I scream, trying to turn away, but find that I can't.
"It doesn't matter. It haunts you the most," she finally says.
"This is really going to hurt, you know," Doctor Lecter says, as he begins to drop the knife.
"STOP!" The other me screams. "Stop, stop, stop! If you loved me, you'd stop!"
The knife clatters to the side with a bang.
"Where's the key?"
Another tear falls down her cheek. "In the back of my dress. Let me out and I'll get it for you."
He eyes her suspiciously for a moment, and pries open the door. She steps forward and reaches into her dress, unlocking the cuffs.
"I'm sorry," she says, more tears falling.
He looks at her - or should I say me? - as if contemplating her meaning.
"I was just trying to do my job," the other me says.
And, taking both of us completely by surprise, he says "Come with me."
She looks down. "Doctor, there is nothing that would please me more..."
"Then go with him, Fool!" I scream to the other me.
"... But I can't. You know I can't."
"They'll never find us, Clarice."
More tears flood down her face. "I can't."
He stares at her for a second. "Very well, then."
"You should go... now, take the back door, I'll cover up here."
He nods.
"Goodbye, Hannibal," she says softly.
"Goodbye, Clarice."
"You idiot! Why didn't you go?! Why?!" I scream, as the memory fades. "Spirit, torture me no longer! Take me home! Take me home!"
"Very well, but you must think about what you learned tonight. And remember to expect the next Ghost when the clock strikes two."
The black void around us fades away, as does the Ghost. I'm suddenly back in my bed, safe again, the clock at 1:45 AM.
And I find myself crying, alone in the darkness.
---
Chapter Two: The First Visit
I awake again with a start and quickly push the hair out of my face and stare to the clock. The red numbers are shining viciously into the night. One AM.
"It was just a dream..." I assure myself aloud. "Just a dream."
But the cracks around my door begin to glow. The light is becoming stronger and it's almost blinding now...
A young girl is standing there, thin and short. Her long, straight blonde hair glitters in the light. I place my hand to my eyes to shield them from the light.
"Sorry I'm late," she says softly. "Last person took longer than I thought he would."
I stare at her, but can't find the words to say. Finally: "W-who are you?"
She smiles sweetly. "I am the Ghost of Christmas Past."
After a moment of silence she says "Take my hand."
I slowly reach out to her.
"Don't be afraid," she says, "You won't fall."
Suddenly, we're flying. I can see my apartment complex, and then the street, and then the city, and now all I can see are the clouds over it all.
I look up to her, past our connected hands. "Where are we going?" I ask.
"To your memories," she says, as she gathers more speed.
And as suddenly as it had all started, we had landed. We're now standing in front of a house, small and tattered. I know this house well.
I gasp. "I grew up here..." I say slowly.
She smiles, and with a blink of her eyes, we're inside.
A woman with short, red hair stands in the kitchen, slaving a stove which holds a quality sized ham, dressing, corn and peas on top.
I walk over to her. "Mom?" I ask, tears filing in my eyes. I expect her to turn to me, but she keeps cooking, as if ignoring me...
"She can't hear you," the Ghost says with an almost sad tone. "She's only a memory."
I turn my head to the living room. On the couch sits a red haired boy and a brown haired girl, reading a book together by the light of candles and the lights of the Christmas tree, laughing innocently.
I walk over to them in amazement. "That's Bobby!" I screech. "And that's Cassandra! They're my brother and sister!"
The Ghost smiles, but says nothing.
Suddenly, the other door swings open and in walks the man I had seen already tonight - my father. In his arms he holds a little red haired girl.
"That's me!" I say.
My mother turns around. "Hello, Alfred. Hello, Clarice. Ready for dinner yet?"
My father puts the miniature me on the ground and I run to my mother. "Yuppers!" Mini-myself screeches.
Bobby and Cassandra hop up from the couch and race to the kitchen. My mother places the food down on the table as everyone takes a seat.
The memory begins to fade.
I turn to the ghost. "Do we have to leave?"
"It is not a good thing to live in memories," she says.
Suddenly, we're in a long corridor. Once again, I see a younger version of myself; However, she is older now. Bobby and Cassandra are there, too. Cassandra's around 14, Bobby, 12, and myself, 10.
I watch as my mother walks out of a small room with her hand over her mouth.
"No.." the real me mutters. "No, please, no..." I had relived this scene many times in my life.
A young woman walks from the room my mother had just come from. I recognize her instantly.
The ghost must have realized this. "You knew her before this, didn't you?"
Still withholding tears from my eyes, I turn back to her. "My father was there for a month. I visited him everyday. Her name was Jackie. She helped me get through it..."
Jackie walked out of the room, her short, blonde hair limp behind her and her green eyes dark and aged.
"Your father's heart failed him. He's gone," she chokes. "I'm so sorry."
There was no reaction on the face of the younger me and her siblings. After a slight pause, Cassandra rises and leaves the room.
"Spirit, please. Don't torture me any longer."
She stares ahead to the room where the Young Me has leaned against Bobby, clutching him for dear life.
"What happened?" she asks.
I turn back to the scene myself. "My mother had already decided that she couldn't raise three children on her own. She already had the arrangements made. Two men from the Social Services arrived an hour later. I went with one in his car, Bobby went with the other. It was the last time I ever saw my mother or siblings."
The spirits face was saddened, but she still continued to stare.
"Please, Spirit..."
She sighs. "Very well."
In a heartbeat, we're in a small room. There sits two beds, two desks, and a dresser. The rooms a mess.
"My dorm room!" I screech happily. "I spent the best days of my life in this room."
A door to the far left opens, and a younger version of me walks out. We look exactly alike, minus she appears to be around ten years younger. She pulls a large pile of books off of the crowded dresser and tosses them on the desk, taking a seat.
The door opens again. A black girl with shoulder length, curly hair walks in.
"Hey, Ardelia," the younger me says, looking up from her books with a smile.
She stops in the center of the room. "Clarice, what on earth are you doing?"
The younger me stares at her, confused. "Wha-? I'm.. studying?"
"Three days before Christmas?" she squeaks. "Where are your bags?"
The younger me shrugs. "Christmas is a time for family, Delia. I don't have a family anymore."
"And what do you call me?" Ardelia says, with fake insult.
"Well.. you're my best friend and.."
"And I'm your sister. Now get your ass up and packed, you're coming home with me."
The younger me stares up at her, gawking. "You serious?"
"Of course," she says with a smile.
The younger me jumps up from a chair and throws her arms around Ardelia. "I love you, Delia!"
I turn to the Ghost. "I spent every Christmas after that with her. Her family accepted me like I was one of their own."
"Why aren't you there this year?" She asks.
I shrug. "After we graduated, it just kinda got old."
Before I even have the chance to blink my eyes, we're in a dark and cold place. I can make out cells to the left and right of me, and a chair down at the far end. Squinting, I can see a younger me, talking to someone inside one of the cells.
"Oh, God, no..." I say, as I jog up to the scene, the Ghost floating behind me.
"Back so soon, Clarice?" The man asks. "It's Christmas Eve. Don't you have some where to be?"
"I'm flying back there tonight, Doctor... now, please, just answer my questions."
"You could spend it with me, you know," he says with a devilish grin across his lips.
"Well, that's kind of you, Doctor, but really, can't you just ans-"
"How was Christmas at the orphanage, Clarice?"
"Doctor, plea-"
"Quid pro quo. I just told what I know for the night, now please fill me in on that... wonderful event."
The younger me sighs and looks to her feet for the answer. "We each got one present, it was donated by Old Man Richardson, who I guess had adopted a child from our orphanage before and was very pleased. There were organized activities, such as charades and a candy cane hunt. We played those most of the day. Then came dinner; One slice of ham, one scoop of potatoes, one roll, and a small glass of milk for each of us. A very slim cut piece of chocolate cake after dinner. It was better than even Thanksgiving to us. And then we were allowed to talk with our friends until ten o'clock, which was remarkably late at our age, and then we went to sleep. And the next day started over the same as the last."
"Did you enjoy Christmases there, Clarice?"
She looks up to his face, the lights hitting her face in odd angles. "No."
"You were too good for them, weren't you?"
"No, I ju-"
"Hush, Clarice. I know you far better than you know even yourself."
She stares at him for a second before rising. "I'm going to be late for my plane. Thank you, and Merry Christmas, Doctor Lecter."
He smiles. "Merry Christmas, Clarice."
The younger me begins to walk away, but not before: "Oh, Clarice..."
She turns back to him. "Yes?"
He smiles again. "Don't worry. You are better than them."
Neither the Ghost nor I say anything. There isn't anything to say.
With another blink of her eyes, we're in a small room, a tree tucked away in a far corner, the smell of food strong in all our noses. But, in the other corner, sits Ardelia and a younger me, me with a phone in my hands.
"Yes, I understand. I just thought that maybe you would like to see me. It's been over twelve years. Yes, I understand that. I said I understand, I'm not ten anymore. That's fine. I'm hanging up now, I won't contact you again. Sorry for interrupting your perfect life," I see the younger me saying, as she slams the phone down.
"Oh, Clarice..." Ardelia says, placing her arm around me.
"She knew that Bobby had passed away," the younger me says, crying. "She knew Mom had died because she went back to live with her when she was sixteen. She's married to a man named Michael now, and she has two children, Veronica, who's seven, and Robbie, who's five. She doesn't want to see me because her children don't know they have an aunt, and she doesn't want me.." the younger me sobs, "in her life... she said she wants nothing to do with me."
"Oh, C," she says, hugging the younger me tighter. "I'm so sorry."
"I was heartbroken," I say to the Ghost. "I had my hopes up so high, I wanted to see her again so badly."
The Ghost doesn't speak, but the memory has changed again.
I see myself. My hair is in a long pony tail, stuck in a refrigerator. The other me looks panicked, but she's trying to hide it.
Doctor Lecter is now hovering over me.
"Tell me, Clarice.. would you ever say to me 'Stop... if you loved me, you'd stop'?" He asks her.
There's a pause. "Not in a thousand years."
"I didn't want to say that, I didn't!" I screech to the Ghost, but she still doesn't speak.
"'Not in a thousand years'. That's my girl."
I watch as he leans in to kiss the younger me and find myself yelling "Kiss him back, you fool! Kiss him back!"
But all that happens is a click as a tear rolls down her cheek.
"Well, isn't this nice, Clarice? Just when I was pressed for time. Where's the key?" and then a pause, as she doesn't answer. "Where's the key?!"
Both the real me and the other watch in horror as he grabs a butcher knife from the table and sizes it around the other me's wrist. "Above or below the wrist, Clarice?"
She stares at him, horrified, as he lifts the knife into the air.
"But this didn't happen on Christmas!" I scream, trying to turn away, but find that I can't.
"It doesn't matter. It haunts you the most," she finally says.
"This is really going to hurt, you know," Doctor Lecter says, as he begins to drop the knife.
"STOP!" The other me screams. "Stop, stop, stop! If you loved me, you'd stop!"
The knife clatters to the side with a bang.
"Where's the key?"
Another tear falls down her cheek. "In the back of my dress. Let me out and I'll get it for you."
He eyes her suspiciously for a moment, and pries open the door. She steps forward and reaches into her dress, unlocking the cuffs.
"I'm sorry," she says, more tears falling.
He looks at her - or should I say me? - as if contemplating her meaning.
"I was just trying to do my job," the other me says.
And, taking both of us completely by surprise, he says "Come with me."
She looks down. "Doctor, there is nothing that would please me more..."
"Then go with him, Fool!" I scream to the other me.
"... But I can't. You know I can't."
"They'll never find us, Clarice."
More tears flood down her face. "I can't."
He stares at her for a second. "Very well, then."
"You should go... now, take the back door, I'll cover up here."
He nods.
"Goodbye, Hannibal," she says softly.
"Goodbye, Clarice."
"You idiot! Why didn't you go?! Why?!" I scream, as the memory fades. "Spirit, torture me no longer! Take me home! Take me home!"
"Very well, but you must think about what you learned tonight. And remember to expect the next Ghost when the clock strikes two."
The black void around us fades away, as does the Ghost. I'm suddenly back in my bed, safe again, the clock at 1:45 AM.
And I find myself crying, alone in the darkness.