Jingle Bells

Alright, so here I am again with another story. Honestly, it's not quite as depressing as the last one. It's actually happy. Which saddens me a tad.

This one was also based on a prompt: "The countdown clock for Christmas is ticking, and Santa's elves begin working their magic on the assembly line; but the line comes to a screeching halt as rumors spread that one elf is going to be let go today.........."

Holly (unimaginative, I know, but bear with me) sat in the plush green chair outside of Santa's ofice, her frizzy orange curls swaying in her face. She was it, she just knew it. How many times had the others warned her of daydreaming? Of doodling on the toy blueprints?

She couldn't say she regretted all of that, though. In fact, maybe this would be good for her. Now she could go out on the ice caps and sketch. Perhaps the Frost nymphs would let her decorate the windows of peoples' homes! Of course, she would have to start working on some warmer clothes, but that wouldn't be too hard to do--

The door slid silently open, washing the dim room with bright yellow firelight.

"Please come in, Holly," the large man said solemnly. Santa! In the flesh! Holly fought down a thrill of excitement - she reminded herself of what a bad elf she was, how much trouble she was in. She followed Santa, surprised that the top of her head almost reached the nose of the tall man.

Santa motioned towards a seat by the fireplace beside a small table of cookies and fresh hot chocolate. Holly sat primly. Santa fell into the seat across from her. There was a pause.

"I've noticed your drawings . . ." Santa began sternly. Holly flinched. Yup, she was definitely the one. Then Santa's face relaxed into a broad smile.

" . . . and might I say, I'm quite relieved! I thought I might have to wait another few hundred years before--"

"Excuse me, sir?"

"Yes?"

"Do you mean that I'm not in trouble?"

Santa rolled with a deep, throaty laughter. "Heavens no! What would ever give you such an idea?"

Holly blushed, embarrassed. "Well, the other elves said--"

"My dear, you must understand that not all elves are gifted with your sense of imagination. Rumors fly around here like a bad cold."

"So, you mean that no one's getting laid off?"

"I didn't say that," Santa replied, peering over his small spectacles as he reached for some paperwork. "I figure that sometimes I need to fulfil a rumor to stop it. So, you're fired-"

Holly drooped. She knew it.

"-from the Toymaking Department."

Department? Meaning that Santa had other factions at the Pole?

"I am reassigning you to be the head of my Artistry Department. This department is in charge of new ideas for toys, designing renovations and remodelings of the Pole, and, most importantly, creating. This department is also where I get all the paintings hanging in all of the buildings." Santa gave her an appraising look. "Do you accept?"

Holly's mouth gaped open like a land-locked fish.

"Yes, yes I accept!" She sputtered excitedly. Santa smiled broadly again.

"I thought you might. Now go down the stairs, to the left, and then three rights after another flight of stairs. Hand this paper to Buttons at the desk. She'll make sure you get to where you need to go." Santa stood up to escort her out. Holly leaped towards him, wrapping her willowy arms around the great expanse of his shaking belly.

"Thank you," she whispered. Large hands encased her as Santa returned her hug.

"Now hurry!We need every bit of that creativity working on Christmas!" Santa shooed her out of the room with a grin.

Holly gave one last wave, then ran down the stairs, out of sight.

TA-DA!!! Something without a bit of depressingness in it! It hurts, OH, it hurts. Enjoy your Christmas present for the year!

Shadow of the Day

Alright, with Footloose over, I think it's about time that I start blogging again. So it is my hope and desire to post at least once a week.

In this post, I am adding a story that I wrote in Creative Writing (have I mentioned how much I love that class?) The prompt is the first line.

Catching the signal from one of her friends, Angela brushed her skirt, took a deep breath, and walked towards where he was sitting. Her shadow trailed behind her.

She reached him, sat down on the seat next to him. Her eyes batted shyly. She looked down, then back at him. She sent a burning red sensation up her neck and into her cheeks.

"Hi. Um, I'm Angela. You know, from English?"

"Oh, yeah. Hey. So how are you liking the dance?"

"Much better now that I have someone to sit next to. You don't mind, do you?" She lowered her face again, creating a look of innocence. He just smiled.

"Of course not. Do your friends want to come, too?" He craned his neck to look at where she ahd been standing with her group only minutes before. With a pang she realized that it wasn't her he liked. She suppressed her horror and fury and despair. She pushed it down, and even further down still, out into her shadow.

The dark tendrils of shadow twisted up around the metal of the chair, crawling up his back with sharp pricks. He didn't feel them. They never did, until the shadow enclosed on the back of their necks, and ice shot through them. He started trembling.

"Hey, are you okay?" Angela put a warm hand on his knee.

"Y-Yeah. Just a little chilly in here. I think I'm going to go get some hot chocolate." He tried to stand up, but her shadow latched on harder, forcing him to stay still.

"No, you stay here. I'll get it for you." Angela stood up, smoothing her pink, fluffy skirt, and skipped to the table of refreshments. Annmarie looked over and nodded twice, smiling darkly. Ah, the signal. Angela sipped at the steaming cup of hot chocolate as she returned to him.

His head was leaning back, mouth slightly open as if her were still trying to slip a breath in. His eyes were wide . . . and lifeless. Angela touched his skin. Cold. Deathly cold. She grinned a hideous grin, eyes gleaming black as her shadow grasped her ankles. This had been fun. She put the styrofoam cup in his hand, and walked away.

Voila! A story of epic disturbing proportions!! I hope you enjoyed it.

Footloose

Need I say more? Long hours, grueling practices, but hey, we rocked the house every single night. And I got a ducky!! A beach ball ducky. It makes me happy.