Work Text:
Snow sprinkled down.
The sky darkened faster. A dim blue grey. The ground was covered in a sheet of white with ice hanging off from every roof. Christmas lights glittered beautifully on almost every house. Outside one house, sat a boy.
He had a small radio with him, his arms wrapped in a thick winter coat. A trail of white and black, hovered near him, protecting over him. He knew that she would always have his back.
He glanced up back into the house. He caught his mother’s gaze, and she nodded softly with a kind smile. He smiled back and sprung up, clutching the radio and making his way down the street.
His destination? The local graveyard.
Breath fogged out in front of him, and he faintly remembered the times back when he pretended to be a dragon in the winter. He chuckled softly. Those were some good times. No stress from school, no worry about his peers. Just childhood imagination in the works.
Stopping, he glanced around. The graveyard was covered in undisturbed snow. Small stone slabs in the snow with names of the deceased. The sky had darkened completely by the time he arrived. Small christmas trees were placed by some graves, while others had small wreaths.
It always made him happy when he saw people taking good care of the graves.
Sitting down on a bench, he placed down the radio next to him. Pressing the on button. Christmas music began to swirl through the graveyard. The soft bells echoing through the area.
It took a little while before they came.
Pale, translucent and messy forms slowly faded into view. First, a small one. The white formed twin pigtails and a long summer dress. The girl came into view.
He smiled at her. She smiled back. Then from behind her, more and more showed. Brothers, sisters, mothers and fathers, aunts, uncles, grandparents and everything in between. Spirits arose from their rest. Then, just as quickly as they formed, they started to dance. The boy watched as a couple of teenage boys twirled past him, their hands interlocked.
The girl standing next to him giggled in an echoey, sing song voice and spun off. An older couple, probably some grandparents, held each other softly, simply humming along and bobbing slightly in beat. A group of girls giggled and spun around in a large circle. Everyone danced, or hummed, or bobbed or simple admired the music.
He came to do this every year, and he enjoyed every second of it. The trail of black and white that had come with him, spun around with another girl around her age.
He smiled and closed his eyes.
Everyone, deserves another Christmas, no matter if you’re dead, or not.