As I lay sleeping, all snug in my bed, visions of Playdude Bunnies danced in my head. When on top of my nightstand there arose such a clatter, I awoke from my sleep to see who the fuck changed my alarm to one am. With a groan, I smashed my fist down on the off button, since I would not be needing a wake up call on Christmas. Fucking. Morning.
I mean, seriously? Who was I, the Pope?
Rolling back over, I came face to face with a particular curly-haired pony, who was grinning at me like a Cheshire cat.
“Surprise!” she yelled, causing me to jump backwards out of bed, and onto the unforgiving floor.
“Jesus Christ, Pinkie!” I scrambled back to my feet with a groan. “What the fuck have I told you about sneaking into my bed? And why the hell are you all white, and glowy, and... when the hell did you get wings?” Adrenaline, the world’s fastest wake up drug.
“I’m not Pinkie, silly! I already told you, I’m Surprise!” Still grinning, the white pegasus with a golden mane lept into the air and did a backflip in my room. The resemblance to Pinkie was creepy as hell, like she was some failed cloning experiment.
“Who the fuck are you, and what are you doing in my house?” Regaining my composure, I crossed my arms. As much as I wanted to say that this was an act done with makeup, there was no way Pinkie could pull off wings, or flying.
“You don't listen very well do you?” Hovering upside down, the pale pony gave me an irritated look. “My name is Surprise, and I’m the ghost of Pinkie’s Past.”
Suddenly it clicked. “Pinkie’s past? Wait, I remember now, you’re Pinkie’s Grandmother! Hold on, aren't you supposed to be dead?”
“Okay, Pinkie. I’m tired, and I don't want to put up with this shit, so stop the act and get your ass back to your own bed.” I sighed, and pointed to the door.
“Looks like she picked for looks, and not for brains. I guess you can’t have it all, now can you?” Shrugging, she stepped towards me. “Well, I work with what I am given. So let’s go, we haven't got all that much time.” Giggling, the pony stopped and rolled her eyes. “That's a good one. The time traveling spirit is short on time.”
Grabbing my hand with her hoof, she gives a tug, and I feel a shiver run through my body. I look down and see that I am hovering a few inches off the ground, and my heart skips a beat. This may not be a trick after all.
“What the everloving fuck? How are you doing this?” I concentrate, and start to lower back towards the floor, but then panic as I start sinking into it.
“Calm down, kid. As long as you are with me, you are safe. Now hold on, we gotta fly!” And as she spread her wings, the world went white.
After blinking the spots out of my eyes, I looked around to find myself outside my house, although the decorations looked a bit different. What was stranger was the fact that I was still in my pajamas, and yet did not feel the cold of the snow. Yes, after you find your roommate occasionally watches you sleep (creepy), you too will learn to enjoy pajamas. Besides, the silk ones are like wearing sexy to bed, and I highly recommend them.
“Okay, let me get this straight.” I turned to the pale pony next to me, who was beaming at me with the typical Pinkie grin. “You are supposed to be the spirit of Pinkie’s dead grandmother, and what, you are here to teach me something about my past?”
“Something like that.” She rolled her eyes, and fluffed her wings, looking like a horse-shaped pigeon. “Somewhere along the way you lost your love of christmas, and I am here to help you find out what happened.
“I’ll tell you what happened. I found out that Santa wasn't real, Nobody cares about Jesus, and everything is just a big fat lie created by corporations to sell more toys and decorations.” I crossed my arms and glared at the pegasus. “That about sums it all up.”
“Oh really? Is that the only reason?” She taunted.
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“Well then, just indulge an old mare then, would you?” She smiled sweetly, batting her eyelashes. Boy was she barking up the wrong tree.
“Look, lady. I’m tired, I’m grouchy, and I don’t wanna participate in some sad excuse for a christmas special.” I crossed my arms, and glared at her. “So I’m gonna just go back inside, and go to bed, and if you come into my room again, I am going to try my new taser that I bought. If it worked on Pinkie, it will sure as hell work on you.”
“By all means, go right on in!” Beaming, she landed and used a wing to wave me on.
I just shook my head, and stomped to the house. Letting myself in, I paused a moment. I was in the house, but something was up. I didn't remember actually walking through the door. I shrugged, and continued inside, grumbling at all the decorations Pinkie had put up everywhere. It was worse than when my parents lived here.
As I entered the living room, I stopped cold, and realised it was exactly like when my parents were here, because they were standing in front of me. My dad looked much younger, and my mom... Well she always looked like a supermodel.
“Wow, your mom is a hottie!” I jumped as I heard a voice behind me, and turned to see the white pegasus had followed me inside.
“Shit, you scared me!” turning back, I addressed my parents. “Mom, dad! What are you guys doing here? And what have you been eating? You look twenty years younger.”
“They can't hear you, ya know. This is just an echo of the past. A memory, long faded.” Sounding melancholy for once, the exuberant mare looked on the scene with a distant stare.
“Dafuq you say?” I glared at her, but noticed that they indeed, did not seem to hear me.
“We are in your past, Louis. This is a Christmas long ago. See, here you come now!” Smiling again, she pointed at the other hallway as a little nappy-headed boy came stomping in, wearing a pair of Spider-Man Underoos.
“Yay! Santa came! Santa came!” Giggling, the boy made a beeline for the tree that was knee deep in wrapped packages, while my much younger parents beamed down on him with warm smiles.
“That’s right, ya little rugrat! You musta been really good at hiding your screwups if Santa didn't find out.” Laughing, my dad winced as my mom thumped him in the arm.
“Daryl, that was uncalled for. We both know our little boy was good all year!” She leaned over and softened the blow with a tender kiss. It was really awkward, seeing my parents being so affectionate. It didn't help that my mom was pretty damn hot.
“Yea, right. He probably just bribed the reindeer.” My dad chuckled.
“Nope! I was exta good all year! I even left exta cookies, and carrots for Santa and Rooduff!” Beaming, the little boy grabbed the first box and gave it a shake.
“See what I mean? Bribery!” Laughing harder, my dad plopped in his chair and pulled my mom into his lap, where she giggled like a little girl.
Meanwhile, the younger me was on his fifth present, and paper was flying everywhere. I felt something squeezing my heart at the scene. Such joy and innocence, long ago lost to me. I turned away to look at Surprise, only to suddenly find myself outside again. Looking around, I saw a church before me, and craned my head back to see the steeple far above me.
“You were such a cute little foal. So full of happiness. What made you so bitter?” Beside me, almost blending into the snow was the pegasus spirit. She had a bittersweet smile on her face as she looked up at me.
“Life. Life made me bitter. That and a good dose of reality.” I sighed, looking back at the doors of the church. I recognized it from my childhood as the place my father took us to worship. Christ the King Church, a catholic church near our home. I heard it’s now the location of some hispanic protestant church or something. Things really have changed.
“So why here, granny?” I pondered.
“Well, let’s go inside and find out!” Hovering a bit, she led the way to the doors, now closed with late mass in session.
Again, I found myself standing in a pew, with no recollection of walking inside. Next to me was Surprise, holding a hymnal in her hooves, and smiling serenely at the scene before us. On the altar was my old priest, Father Wojciechowski, and on either side were two young boys. I recognized one as an older, and better groomed version of the boy I had seen earlier.
Beside me, Surprise gasped. “Ohmygosh! You look so cute in your little robe! Are you like a church helper or something?”
“I was an altar boy, nine years running. They thought that one day I would be a priest, but I never was religious enough.” I sighed. I noticed I was getting a funny look and turned to face her.
“I’m so sorry...” Hopping up on her hind legs, she threw her arms around me in a brief hug.
“What?” I stammered.
Pulling back, she pulled a small cloth doll that kinda resembled the younger me. “Would you like to show me on the doll where the priest touched you?”
“Fuck. You.” I growled. “Not all altar boys get molested, asshole. My priest was a mean drunk instead.” And indeed, a slight slur could be heard to the priest’s voice as he gave his sermon.
“Oh. Sorry. I didn't mean to stereotype.” Looking down, her wings drooped to her side.
“It wasn't his fault. It wasn't anyone’s fault, really.” I started to explain, looking straight ahead at the mass before me. I noticed my parents near the front row.
“I started out like the normal kid, all full of wonder and believing in Santa, but the more I got into studying my dad’s religion, the more lies I uncovered. I found out how fake everything was, and it just sucked the joy out of it all.” I sighed, and sat in the pew, my head in my hands. Slowly, a warm wing made it’s way across my back, and I was pulled into a hug. I didn't feel like returning it, so I just closed my eyes as the hollowness filled me.
A few moments later, I felt the wing retract, and I lifted my head. Before me was a scene from the 80’s. I was in a mall, with all the bright colored decorations, the crappy music, and the horrible clothing everyone was wearing. I looked over at Surprise, and she just shrugged at me. Then I looked up to see a young teen with high top sneakers, Tight jeans, and a fade haircut. It was me again, and I cringed at how horribly fashion deprived I looked. Ever seen the movie Breakin? Yeah... that was me.
“Dad, I don’t wanna see no Santa. It’s just some drunk dude in a suit.” The boy whined in his cracking pubescent voice.
“What you talkin bout boy? You always loved going to see Santa! I paid some good money so we could get your picture taken and shit. Now get your black ass on that old pervert’s lap.” My dad growled at me.
“Seriously dad, I don’t wanna. Did you know that the department store Santa is less than fifty years old? Even Saint Nicholas wasn't associated with Santa until way after his death. This is all just commercialized bullcrap used to sucker people into buying more junk!” I saw as the boy pouted and stomped his foot.
“You watch your mouth boy. I am your father, and you will sit on Santa’s lap, let us take pictures, and like it. And if you are good, then mebbe I won't bust your ass for embarrassing me and your mother in the middle of the goddamn mall!”
“No! I won't live the lie! There is no damn Santa Claus!” I watched the boy slip out of the grasping hand of my father and run off into the crowd.
I remembered that day. That was the last day my family celebrated Christmas. After that, it was just another day. No more decorating, no more tree, no more gift giving. I remember my father and mother quietly accepting my decision. I remember being so pissed off that I didn't return home until night, and neither of my parents said a word.
What I didn't remember was the look of profound devastation on my father’s face as his little boy told him he no longer believed in Santa Claus. I don't remember seeing my mother holding him as tears ran down his face, right there in public. I don't remember that the strongest man I ever knew was reduced to a wreck because his little boy had decided to grow up and become a bitter, jaded man.
“I- I didn't know.” I turned away from the spectacle of my broken father, to look into the sad eyes of the pony beside me.
“Christmas isn't just about you, Louis. It’s about the people and the things you hold dear. It’s about family, and friends, and showing them you love them.”
My eyes started to blur, and a gentle wing rose up to wipe away the tears forming on my face. When my vision cleared, I was back in my room, and I was alone. Not just physically alone, but I felt emotionally adrift. With a sigh, I collapsed onto my unkempt bed, and fell into a dreamless sleep.