Blue Christmas
An imaginative text composed by Charlotte (Year 12, Mackillop Catholic College)
The tantalising smell of freshly-baked gingerbread wafted through the house. Blue Christmas could be heard softly playing on the radio, almost drowned out by the joyous laughter filling the living room. Elizabeth couldn’t help but grin at the wondrous beam on her daughter’s face upon tearing the candy cane striped wrapping paper.
‘Princess Isabelle!’ Lucy exclaimed, eyes wide. ‘Thanks Mummy, Thanks Daddy!’
‘You’re very welcome darling.’ Andrew placed an affectionate kiss on Lucy’s forehead. Elizabeth and Andrew exchanged a tender smile as Edward loudly exclaimed that it was his turn, and lunged forward to rip open his own oddly-shaped snowman paper-clad gift.
As Edward hastily donned his new superhero outfit, Elizabeth took the opportunity to appreciatively gaze around the room. The slightly unbalanced but vividly green Christmas tree glimmered with a kaleidoscopic array of tinsel draped haphazardly at various angles. The decorations were a jumbled medley of elegant gifted baubles, poorly-painted wooden figurines, and misshapen clay-moulds, chaotic enough to capture their family dynamic.
The table was meticulously arranged, underpinned by Edward’s chosen reindeer patterned cloth laid in a diamond shape. Lucy’s favourite plate-carved with a snowman-had sugar cookies layered upon it, the icing quality contrasting and those Elizabeth had iced were clearly distinguishable from those of her children. A glass of milk sat on a wooden coaster, and a carrot lay next to it.
The fireplace was lined with greeting cards and four stockings were pinned along it, each perfectly encapsulating the owner’s personality. Lucy’s was pink and her name, as well as the Christmas tree pattern, were outlined with pink glitter glue. Edward’s was a tie-dyed pattern of reds and blues, and his name was written in block lettering, resemblant of a superhero film title. Andrew’s was a red-green pattern resembling an ugly Christmas sweater, while Elizabeth’s was a silver starry pattern.
Elizabeth was torn from her appreciative observance by a cacophony of delighted giggles and turned to see her children each hanging over one of Andrew’s shoulders. Andrew was grinning broadly and joking about Santa Claus not coming if you don’t get into bed this instant. Elizabeth took a moment to appreciate the unanimous joy emanating from her perfect little family. Andrew spun the children around, all laughing breathlessly, and Elizabeth stood, mind made up to join in with tickles and love and laughter-
And when those blue snowflakes start falling
Everything seemed to halt and Blue Christmas on the radio seemed to grow infinitely louder. Andrew, Edward and Lucy slowed to a perfect tableau of ecstasy. The colourful decorations seemed to dim as if someone had turned down the vibrancy on a camera lens. The stockings sunk in place, and the warm fire fizzled out. The toasty gingerbread smell vanished and everything felt cold and stale.
Elizabeth found that she couldn’t move, she was paralysed by fear and confusion and a terrifyingly intense sense of déjà vu.
That’s when those blue memories start calling
The drained image of her previously wondrous night flickered and flashed impressions which swept over Elizabeth’s mind: a masculine warning yell, a girl’s scream, screeching brakes, glaring headlights, graze from a whiplashed seatbelt.
Blinking hastily, Elizabeth was yanked back into the darkened living room. A sense of dreaded familiarity washed over her, the flashed images seeming to lead only to one conclusion.
Suddenly able to move again, Elizabeth collapsed onto the lounge behind her, her breaths coming in panicked gulps. Desperate for some evidence that it couldn’t be true, Elizabeth glanced down to the table. But the vibrant sugar cookies had shrunk to a shrivelled reheated leftover dinner, the milk had darkened to scarlet wine, and the carrot had been replaced with her phone.
You’ll be doing alright with your Christmas of white
With a numb sense of understanding washing over her, Elizabeth picked up her phone. It was layered with message notifications.
- Here if you need anything x
- Love you Elizabeth, here if you need
- Merry Christmas Liz, you can get through this
- What do you want me to bring for the memorial service tomorrow?
- Sending love, prayers and hugs your way Lizzie xx
But I’ll have a blue, blue, blue, blue Christmas
She let her phone drop onto the carpet and with trembling hands she reached for the glass of wine, and took a shaky sip. She sank defeatedly back into the lounge with a mournful tear trickling down her cheek and Elizabeth let herself succumb to her grief, and resigned herself to Christmas alone.
Yes I’ll have a blue, blue, blue, blue Christmas
