ymms drafts

a christmas carol

happy christmas eve!!!! i didn't plan on writing this but i got sudden inspiration while watching a christmas carol last night and stayed up to binge write this but anyway!! i hope you all have a good christmas and if you don't celebrate it then happy tuesday

anyway as the title suggests this is loosely based off a christmas carol by charles dickens

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1. christmas eve

Camila sighs, pulling the beanie down over her ears as she gets out of the cab, quickly thanking the driver. She squints as she runs through the snow, pulling her keys from her pocket as she runs to the door of her apartment building. She unlocks it, hands numb from the cold, and runs up the stairs to her floor, unlocking her door and slamming it shut behind her.

She sighs, and decides to tidy things up a little more, her heart aching at the idea that she has to spend Christmas alone. A flight to Miami was expensive and she and her parents agreed she should save her money and come back later on, so she can't go home to see her family. They couldn't come up to see her either, so she's stuck in her shitty apartment, not knowing what to do. She'd almost had plans, but they'd fallen apart when her relationship had.

Collapsing on her couch, Camila grabs the TV remote and switches it on, along with the lamp just to her left. She looks over at the corner where the Christmas tree should've gone, but she hadn't had the energy to put it up, and it's not like she had any presents here, anyway. They were all in Miami, waiting for her to go home on the 27th; the only reason she can get back then is because it was the cheapest flight she could find.

She browses through the TV channels, and settles on an episode of The Simpsons to pass the time, skipping over any Christmas movies she sees. She doesn't want to think about the holiday this year. For Camila, Christmas isn't happening this year. Relaxing, she closes her eyes and tries to empty her mind of all the Christmas displays she'd seen today, all of the festivities, and if she's being honest, she doesn't feel the magic anymore.

She doesn't remember falling asleep, but the next thing she knows, her apartment door is creaking open, and she sits up in alarm. She swears she'd locked it, and while she should be jumping up and running to slam the door on whoever is opening it, she freezes, staring in horror as it pushes open.

Rooted to the spot, Camila watches as a young woman walks through the door, so graceful that she practically glides, and for a second, she feels relief. Maybe she'd just gotten the wrong apartment. "Um, I think you've got the wrong—Dinah?"

The woman meets her gaze, and that's when Camila knows this is very, very wrong. It's Dinah Jane Hansen, Camila's childhood best friend, and that in itself isn't the problem. The problem is that Dinah Jane Hansen is dead.

Dinah had died last year on a drunken night out, when a stranger had attacked her, and Camila had been empty ever since. She blinks, trying to make the figure in front of her disappear, because that can't be Dinah, she can't be here. It's physically impossible.

"Mila," Dinah addresses her with a grin, flopping down next to her on the couch. Camila scrambles to get away and falls flat on her ass, hitting the ground with a thud. "Missed me?"

"I- what? But you're--" Camila stammers, eyes wide and heart hammering against her chest, "you're dead."

"Yeah," Dinah casually replies, grabbing a little wrapped candy from the bowl Camila keeps on the coffee table. "Anyway, try not to freak out, but hey. I'm here to help you."

"This isn't real," Camila mumbles, "it's not real, and I've fallen asleep, and I'm dreaming, and you're not here."

"Damn, not happy to see me, then. Should I have sent a card?" Dinah teases her, and Camila's heart aches, because she'd missed her so much, but this can't be real. "Doesn't look like you've been sent any. Anyway, you're not acting like yourself, and that's why I'm here."