• Merry Christmas!

    Said a voice, and nothing but, calling out to his lonely soul.
    Flickerin' lights, illuminating a place he once called home.

    But where?

    Where did he belong? Who did he belong to? His eyes trailed at the moon, his mind searching for anything.

    Here's your gift, I hope you like it

    It said again, from the depths of his memory. He turned; nothing but the foosteps that were behind him. A bakery is what he passed by, warm and loving.
    The smell of gingerbreads, candy canes, and hot cocoa--yes it smelled good--filled him with memories of the past, of a woman that made his heart skip a beat, and of a home which he belonged to.

    His eyes brightened, rivaling the candles the stood behind the glass pane. He kissed it and ran, running towards the place he would surely be welcomed.

    You like it? I'm so glad you do...

    Those pieces were coming back, much faster than he expected. The woman was beautiful, overflowing golden locks and eyes that would make Poseidon mad; and a house, not quite their own, that his body yearned for; a bed to sleep in, a room that smelled like deep lavenders, that's what--

    But the house was there, right in front of his eyes, and they had deceived him.

    The house was decaying, old, wretched, nothing like in his memories. His fingers traced the cold iron gate, which was as old as the monstorous house as well. His eyes lost hope but then his eyes looked over again, at the sign.

    Mr. and Mrs. Sterling, a couple who's dedication was above and beyond. May they rest in peace.

    His body became weak with the terrible truth. He had not died, he was right here!

    His eyes closed and he felt the coldness before.

    He was alone.

    Alone for the Holidays.