Christmas Classics Novels & Stories

The silence after hanging up was…holy. I dropped my phone on the couch and stood, stretching my arms overhead while groaning like someone twice my age. My gaze swept across the cabin again. You know what? This could actually work out really great. This felt like something a depressed and unemployed 22 year old ㅡ meㅡ would be interested in on a normal Christmas holiday. Fire. Warmth. Sleep. I set my suitcase to the ground and tripped over it while trying to get to the fireplace. Of course I fucking did.

I learned to be thankful and quiet. That acceptance made me hate Christmas. Love songs made my skin crawl. The lights under our tree looked like glass eyes. The ribbons on the presents were traps. Every year, the house tuned itself to cheer and I pretended to enjoy it. The twenty-fifth became the night when a new kind of cold touched my bones. It was the day the truth had crawled out at me like an animal. It was the day I had learned how much of my life had been decided by other hands.

Her eyes flashed with a grief I didn’t understand. “It’s time,” she said softly, “you learned the truth about our family… and about Him.” The voices outside grew louder. A chorus of whispers. Merry Christmas.Merry Christmas. Merry Christmaaaaas… My skin crawled. Ruby lifted the lantern. And the flames inside turned black.

“Good. Like I said, I brought my girl here on a date. But a ruckus is currently going on outside. I want to shift half of my shares to my girl—” He blinked, cutting me off. “If I'm not mistaken, when you say your girl, you mean your wife right?” I paused as I raised a brow at him. “Richard, she's not yet my wife. But I plan to marry her.” “Then that is foolishness, giving it all to her like that.” I nodded. “Half, not all.” Richard banged his fist on the table and jolted to his feet. “Look here, half your share of Classic Castle is worth more than some whole companies, isn't that too much for a girlfriend?”

Mama Metcalf said as she took their gear and hung it by the front door. It looked like a Christmas suicide bomber had come into the living room, yanked the ACME-style trigger, and exploded. Yes, as expected, there was the crackling fire, the massive tree dominating the far corner; but every square inch of space was packed with shrapnel from the blast. Knickknacks jostled for room on the mantle, toy elves poked out of stockings, Santa sentinels lined the windows, miss-matched nativity sets were perched on stools, with Joseph towering over Mary, a gargantuan baby Jesus larger than all three Wise Men combined. The coffee table was piled with plastic snowmen, ceramic Christmas trees, music boxes

"Oh, thank you, Sam." Doris and Max stepped into the grand foyer of the mansion, immediately struck by the opulence of the holiday decor. The marble floors were polished to a high sheen, and the walls were hung with lavish paintings of winter scenes. A large Christmas tree towered in the corner, decorated with twinkling lights and glittering ornaments. The air was filled with the scent of evergreen and the strains of festive music, giving the space a magical, holiday feeling. Doris and Max felt as though they had stepped into a winter wonderland.

Her big smile lit up her face as each syllable reverberated, and she and Cassandra sang along to the music : “You're my wish list Lookin' at you got me thinking Christmas Snowflakes in my stomach when we're kissin' And when you're comin' down the chimney, ooh, it feels so good I need that Charles Dickens You'll be Santa Claus and I'll be Mrs. I'll take you for a ride, I'll be your vixen I don't even know, I'm talkin' Christmas I'm talkin', I'm talkin' (ah) Caught up in the loveliness of the music, she lost herself to the dance, her movements completely in sync with the jubilant tempo of the song.

Ray sings. “There is just one thing I need.” I join. “I don't care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree,” Jordan sings while we stay quiet. “I just want you for my own,” I say. “More than you could ever know.” Ray sings, gazing at me. “Make my wish come true,” Jordan says, looking at me. Eyes on the road, please. “All I want for Christmas is you.” We all chorus, pointing to one another. In no time, we see the Bakers’ gigantic estate gate bars, all covered with literally uncountable strands of twinkle lights. As we drive in, we feed our eyes with the Christmas decorations from different angles of the estate.

**LIA** #Here comes Santa Claus, here comes Santa Claus, right down Santa Claus Lane...# The familiar holiday tune played softly in my headphones, transporting me to a festive world despite my current surroundings. I closed my eyes, eagerly anticipating my journey back home. I was on a plane, en route to Singapore to reunite with my mom and sister, marking the beginning of a much-needed break from school. It had been a long time since I had been home, and I was determined to make this Christmas special.

Say You’re Mine All I Ask of You Make Me Yours Hold Me Close Oopsie Daisy He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not Petal Plucker War of the Roses including Then Came You Taking a Chance on Love All I Want Is You My One and Only The Nearness of You The Very Thought of You If I Can’t Have You Dream a Little Dream of Me Someone to Watch Over Me Till There Was You I’ll Be Home for Christmas