I am bringing this story back. I know that this is the same chapter, but I made some changes to it. I will hopefully be able to update the next chapter soon. Enjoy! Recommended listening: It's Beginning to Look a lot like Christmas, Michael Buble.

A Ghostly Visitor

Colored lights were hanging from every house in the neighborhood and every radio station in Retroville had been playing Christmas music 24/7 since Thanksgiving.

The holiday season was here again.

He cursed under his breath. What a hoax! The entire day was based on myths, legends and recycled ideas. Santa Claus, for instance, was a myth created to encourage children to behave. It was an idea stolen from the life of Saint Nicholas. Only it had been enhanced to unbelievable and magical portions. Christmas was nothing more than a clever guise for merchandisers to sell an abundance of their product. Anyone with half of a brain could figure that out.

It was all so utterly ridiculous.

So why his eleventh grade classmates had chosen to do A Christmas Carol for the winter play was beyond him. He'd tried to convince his classmates that they didn't even need to do a Christmas play, but they all claimed it was tradition. He didn't care that the school had been doing it for over seventy years. They had all insisted that he do the special effects, but he said no. Now everyone in the school hated him.

Even Sheen and Carl had been avoiding him. He had to admit that he'd grown kind of fond of the peace and quiet which their absence provided. They all called him Grinch and a Scrooge, but Jimmy didn't care. He was entitled to keep 'Christmas' however he chose. Especially if that meant not keeping the silly holiday at all!

When he walked in the doors of Retroville High School he was greeted by an unwelcome sight. People were chattering excitedly. Some were humming Christmas carols, a few donned red sweaters. The halls were decorated with red and green streamers and cheesy posters that all said, Merry Christmas!

"Are you going to go to the play tonight?" One girl walking in front of him asked her companion.

"Of course, I've heard it's really good."

Instantly he was reminded that it was opening night of the dreaded play. That meant the entire school would be abuzz with this kind of disgusting spirit.

It was going to be a long day.

"Well well, if it's not Mr. Grouchy pants," an icy female voice came from behind him.

He turned to see Cindy Vortex standing behind him with a furious glare on her face. Her golden hair now flowed gently over her shoulders and her body had shaped well since their Lindberg Elementary days. She wasn't a Betty Quinlan, but she wasn't bad to look at.

"What do you want, Vortex?"

"I'm just making sure that you are not coming to the production this evening."

He shook his head. "No."

"Good!" she snapped. Turning on her heel, she disappeared down the hallway.

"Like I'd actually go to the play," he snapped back as she retreated. She didn't even look back.

Just then a redheaded boy appeared next to him. "Hey Jimmy," Carl wheezed.

"I thought you guys weren't talking to me."

"I'm not really all that mad at you. I mean, just because I'm playing the ghost of Marley doesn't mean you have to come see me or anything. But don't tell Sheen I was talking to you… in fact, don't tell anyone I was talking to you."

Jimmy smiled awkwardly. "Sure."

Carl wheezed again. "Thanks," he offered softly as they walked into their first class together.

All day long, no one wanted to shut up about the stupid show. Even the choir went around class to class singing uplifting songs and then making comments about seeing the annual 11th grade production. By the time school was over, his head was aching with Christmas spirit and his stomach was positively churning.

When he got home he was so upset didn't even say hello to his mother and father he headed straight for his lab.

Just as he was turning the doorknob he could've sworn for a single moment that his doorknob had looked exactly like his dead grandmother. It was just a trick of the light that's all, no more than the long day getting to his head.

He needed quiet, pronto.

Goddard was snoozing lazily on his bed. The various machines were whirring quietly. The entire lab smelled like a mix of chemicals and iron. Instantly, he felt more at peace. He smiled as he pulled on his lab coat. This was where he belonged, with logic and science.

A few minutes later his work was interrupted as the lights began to flicker. After a few moments of this they shut off completely. He sighed and checked his watch. It was blinking, which meant that something in the room was giving a very high frequency interfering with the functioning.

It also informed him that it wasn't anything he'd built.

A chill ran down his spine.

Okay, this was silly! He just needed to get the lights back on and then everything would be fine. He pulled out an extra flashlight that he kept in a drawer.

Slowly he worked his way over to the other side of the room. When he was about halfway, there was a strange noise from over by where Goddard lay.

His heartbeat sped up a little. Okay, he was imagining things. He was just a little freaked out by the door knob thing. With a twinge, he noted that Goddard had started whining nervously.

Jimmy swallowed the lump in his throat and moved a little closer to the switch.

It had also gotten about ten degrees colder. Another chill ran up his spine. He spun around quickly, but nothing was there.

"Okay, just get over to the lights," he told himself.

"James Isaac Neutron," a voice from behind him whispered.

He knew that voice! But it couldn't be!

"Turn around, dear boy."

His heart was now beating at an unfathomable rate. Slowly, he forced himself to turn around. What he saw nearly made him pass out. Was that his grandmother? No, his grandmother had been dead for years. Yes, she was as dead as a doornail, which only made his current situation all the more strange. Because no matter how hard his rational mind tried to fight it, she was standing in front of him her face looking very pale and careworn.

"Grandma, is that you?"

"It is."

He shook his head. "This is not happening! This is all in my imagination. You have to be some experiment gone awry or some sugar induced dream."

"No, it's me."

"How is that possible? Ghosts aren't real."

"You always were a skeptic, and you never did listen to me."

"What are you doing here?"

"I was sent here to give you another chance."

"What do you mean?"

"I have seen a glimpse of your future, and it is filled with misery and loneliness if you continue to follow the path of bitterness that you have chosen."

"What if I am happy following it?"

"Jimmy, it is very rare for one of our "kind" to be able to make visits. But, I was able to since I had hope that there was hope that you would change. I really hope that I'm not wrong. You only have this one last chance. So please, for both of our sakes, don't mess it up."

Jimmy crossed his arms over his chest."Whatever."

She frowned and gestured to his watch. "This night you will be visited by three spirits. The first will be Ghost of Christmas Past at midnight, the second will be the Ghost of Christmas Present at two, and last will be the Ghost of Christmas Future at four. Each will take on a form of an everyday person. And a little hint, Jim, don't mess with the last one. It's kind of touchy. "

"Yeah, sure, whatever you say Grandma. I just need to wake up from this dream."

His grandmother sighed."Don't disappoint me Jimmy; I know you have a heart in there somewhere."

Then without another word she vanished. The moment after she had gone, the lights came back on and the interference with his watch stopped.

"Stupid overactive brain," he muttered as he slapped his palm against his forehead.

Goddard continued to whine nervously for a moment, but at a harsh look from his master set him straight back to sleep.

Later, as the clock chimed eleven, another cold chill ran up Jimmy's spine. There was only an hour left till the 'Ghost of Christmas Past' came.

"Like there is such a thing!" He tried to assure himself in a small and frightened squeak.

-x-