Christmases Past

         As Rebecca walked through the now abandoned mansion, memories from yesteryear flooded her mind: The smell of gingerbread cookies wafting through the air, all the way upstairs into the toy-filled room where she played. The sound of joyful Christmas music echoing throughout the classically decorated rooms. Visions of her running down the white marbled staircase, her hand following along the cherry wood banister, decorated with live fir vines, and the delicious smell of its greenery stirring and heightening her senses.

         As if she were back in her childhood days, she followed the same route she travelled many times. Remembering her favorite room where family met and mingled. The place she and the other kids were allowed to sneak a small glass of adult eggnog. The christmas lights always bright, with big, fat, bright light bulbs. Christmas trees were decorated with unabandoned glee. Her favorite tree though, had to be the one in a large pot -- the one with a stay of execution, which would join the other trees of Christmases past on the back, east end grounds.

         Rebecca is suddenly snapped back to current day, as she walks to the opening of the Christmas room. Her mouth falls open, joining the famous painting of Scream, with her own. Lights hang precariously around the room, with the majority of them still burning bright. As the ghosts of yesterday, the potted Christmas tree welcomes her back, its strained bare branches struggling to stand strong. The huge gold star bowing the tip of the tree, under its heavy weight of memories. Bent but not broken, just like Rebecca.

(277 words)


Use this picture to inspire your poem or short story: http://faeriedanse.deviantart.com/art/Christmas-in-July-316312394