Ghost of the Past // Samuel Seabury

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Samuel took heavy breaths, looking for someone to help. He stared at the ghost staring at him. Familiarity danced around in his head, names teasing his tongue, emotions flocking his body. The ghost opened his eyes slowly, taking a long look around the room.

"Christmas. I hate December," he said, the familiarity licked Samuel's head like a fire under a chimney. Samuel looked at the assortment of decorations placed around his room. The ghost looked like he had sipped eggnog that had been spiked unexpectedly. He looked at Samuel, glancing his clouded, vacant eyes over his body.

"Don't you hate December too?" the ghost asked. Samuel shook his head, Christmas was supposed to be a joyful time, not whatever this ghost was implying.

"Odd, I'd assume you had the same sentiment as I, though I suppose it has been quite a few years. Please, take a seat, your trembling is bothering me," the ghost said. He crossed his arms, watching Samuel shakily climb his bed. Nothing entered those clouded eyes, not an emotion, not a hint to the identity of the ghost.

"Who are you?" Samuel asked, tilting his head. The ghost gave a heavy laugh, there was nothing showing that the ghost found the question humorous, but instead was prolonging the answer.

"You don't remember me? Maybe this is why you can stand Christmas. Remember, I supposedly gave you the worst Christmas gift known to man kind, Samuel, I'm like this for you," the ghost said, laughing more. Samuel cowered at the sound, confused by the answer the ghost gave. Finally, the clouds in his eyes left, showing a piercing blue that Samuel had never forgotten. The ghost had a half attempted stitching on his neck and the memories flooded him. The leash on the name was freed. The familiarity was completely and burning his mind.

"Charles," he mumbled. The ghost laughed again, his eyes clouding over again. Samuel didn't understand his laughter.

"Merry Christmas! It's amazing to hear you forgot me! I died for you, and this is the love and thanks I get!" the ghost said. Samuel felt guilty, he gazed at the decorations hanging around his room then back at Charles.

"I didn't forget you, it's hard to think when you just... appear after six years," Samuel said. Charles laughed again, the sound almost daunting Samuel.

"Sure. Remember when I told you I'd never make a choice. I didn't, haha, I couldn't have you around, so I decided that I couldn't have anyone around," Charles said. The stitching on his neck came loose with every word. Samuel scooted away, he remembered hearing Charles say it after they had a huge fight. Charles stepped the same amount forward, his arms raising a little.

"Why are you here? Why now? Why not when I was mourning you?" Samuel asked. Charles laughed again, almost losing his head. Literally.

"You don't think that if I could, I would? Samuel, I know I killed myself because of you, but I still love you. Call me crazy or obsessed, but it's like I'm attached to you, I keep following you around, trying to sway your dumbass decisions," Charles said. Samuel felt his breathing hitch roughly. Charles laughed and tried to walk away, but Samuel saw the chains appear, bounding to Charles's hands. He followed them to their source, seeing the locks on his waist, though no pressure came from the area, no matter how hard Charles seemed to be pulling. Samuel got up, allowing Charles a little leeway.

"You're attached to me," Samuel mumbled, trying to pry the clasp on his body off, though his hands passed straight through it. If anyone came in his room to help, he may look like a mad man.

"Oh, Samuel, always stating the blatant facts, you've always been so funny," Charles said before laughing more. Samuel wanted it to stop, he felt even more guilty with every ebullient giggle. Samuel sat back down, pulling Charles forward. His head loosened once more, held on by a few stitches on his left and single one on his right.

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