#christmas

It was two days until Christmas, just one more day until Christmas Eve. I was at Walmart with my older sister Alyssa, trying to find a present for our father. "Eric, how much money did you say you had?" she questioned, rummaging through her purse. "Five dollars and seventy-eight cents," I answered proudly. "Eric," she began, reaching for the top shelf, "if we want to get Dad this Guinness set, we'll need five more dollars."

Timothy had always loved Christmas. It was his favorite time of year. He loved the lights, the music, the presents, the movies, the laughter… he loved it all.

I had never had Christmas Carollers in my neighbourhood before. I think it’s one of those bygone traditions that have survived more in pop culture than actual practice. I never doubted that people still do it somewhere, sometimes, but I’ve never seen it happen in person and never really thought much of it. But on the last winter solstice, I finally heard a roving choir outside my window.

This account was not meant to be kept with the others. It was filed incorrectly at first, tucked between some water damage report and a handwritten inventory of seasonal decorations. No one noticed because no one ever looks too closely at Christmas. We prefer it softened, rounded at the edges, safe to touch.  There are entire kinds of damage that go unrecorded when they happen in December. It is a season built on reassurance, and reassurance has a way of smoothing over things that should have…

During the darkest of nights, on the night of Christmas Eve. A light shone in the dark veil. A candle was lit with love and care. He hummed with cheerfulness and glee. The other, quiet as a mouse, was hidden within the stairwell, lit by candlelight and holly bells. The man noticed the snowflake-printed nightgown as he hummed 'Jingle Bells.' She ran and hid under the shadows of the night. With the candlelight lighting his way.

It's Christmas eve and I'm still working late, typing away at my computer. You shouldn't pity me, I chose to do so. I didn't really have any other plans and the extra pay seemed a lot better than sitting at a crowded dinner table with people I barely know. For a moment I stop and look out the window. Why does it have to be snowing now of all years? Now I kinda regret not staying home... I pull my attention back to my computer and continue my work.

Disclaimer: This is a retake of a pretty obscure classic creepypasta called America’s Funniest Videos Banned Episode by Owlbeseeingyou. If you’ve been watching TV on a Christmas night in 1992, you may have captured something weird; I know I did.

One night, there was pure white snow, five feet deep, below my window panel as I looked outside at the winter wonderland in awe and fear, a pair of eyes watching me from across the street. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me start with the bringing of this day, before creatures of snow and ice came to my doorstep. My name is Rose Winters, I'm 31 and I have dark red hair with pale blue eyes. I dress very girly and I never stop talking about something.... dear to me.... Let's start...

Red, true as crimson stones.... December is here, with snowflakes and mistletoes of winter white.... 6 days left, with sugar cookies and hot chocolate: happiness.... Of Holly berries and bells of golden rings.... 5 days left, with long nights and shadows that watch you in the darkness of night... Of Holly berries, red and true... 4 days left, with eyes of amber glow and icy cold stares watching you as you sleep with care... Of Holly, covered in crimson hue, dark and true....