The holiday season always seems to bring back memories we'd rather forget and this year is no different for Terri-Ann. One Christmas not too long ago, she turned down an unexpected offer from Andrew, one of her closest friends, and three years later...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The sounds of cheesy Christmas music that floated through the house began to fade as she walked down the hallway, but somehow a peal of scandalous laughter travelled past Terri before bouncing off the closed door in front of her. She smiled beside herself; she could recognize that laugh anywhere. Aunty Pearl seemed to get drunk on just the Christmas spirit. Terri chuckled at the thought as she struggled to figure out how she was going to open the door with both hands full.
Balancing her plate on top of her cup in one hand, she tucked her phone under an armpit and then attempted to open the door with the other. It swung open successfully and she sighed in relief. It was the kind of sound you made when you got home after a long day; for Terri, it had been a long day.
Just the sight of the window seat brightened her mood. Light flooded the room even though the day was quickly approaching dusk. The lumpy, old cushion that was once a periwinkle blue, appeared white from where Terri stood, but that didn't matter to her. She'd spent countless rainy days and almost every summer night curled up on it, reading a book or listening to Grandaddy tell stories from "long time ago." The little seat with its faded fabric seemed to be stuffed to capacity with memories.
She walked over to it, the smile on her face growing as the distance between her and her sanctuary shrunk. She placed her paper cup in the corner, gingerly removing her fingers to test if the cup would remain standing without her support. When it was finally stationary, she gently placed the plate and her phone next to it. Realizing she had left the door ajar, she returned to the doorway to close it.
She scurried back over to the seat and climbed onto it, oblivious to the disaster waiting to happen. As she sat, the cushion underneath her sunk, pushing the opposite side upward. Her eyes shot over to where her drink had been previously. The cup was toppling over onto its side, the deep red liquid within, sloshing dangerously close to the edge. Luckily, her great reflexes kicked in and she caught it in time before it could spill. With a sigh of relief, she pulled her knees up to her chest and took a sip, savouring the sweetness and the little kick of the ginger. It really wasn't Christmas without sorrel --she glanced at the plate at her feet-- and black cake.
She sighed again as she looked out the window. The sunset was gorgeous, as usual. The colours seemed to be dancing with each other across the sky, just as she imagined the rest of her family was doing in the living room right now. She had made her escape as stealthily as possible. Dancing wasn't something she felt like doing at the moment, in fact, it was the last thing she felt like doing. She had spent most of the day on her feet already, but that wasn't the real reason she had run away. She didn't even feel tired, well at least not physically.
She stared into her drink, swirling it around in the cup. She could just barely see the particles at the bottom spinning in the whirlpool she had created. The sight brought back memories she was trying to repress, memories of a Christmas not too long ago. She closed her eyes and sighed. Who was she kidding? She shook her head, amused, because a part of her knew that she was lying to herself. If she were actually trying to keep unwanted memories away, she really wouldn't have come here. This same part of her knew that, in reality, she was seeking out the ghosts.
