A Christmas Mystery

December 5th: A Troublesome Future

"What?" Ford exclaimed, "Why are you here for me?" Fiddleford shook his head in slight frustration. "Don't you see, Ford, this is what will happen to you if you keep up what you're doing. And on Christmas Eve, for crying out loud! Even I didn't act selfishly during the holidays!" "That was because I was stronger than you..." he mumbled under his breath. Ford looked absolutely disgusted. "Excuse me, what did you say?" he asked sarcastically. "YOU WERE WEAK!" Ford shouted. Ford stepped back, not expecting such a loud response. "Fiddleford, there is nothing wrong with me. I may be selfish, but I know my place.

"If anything, it's everyone around me who you should be visiting. It seems to me that I'm the inly one who knows this world as it actually is! Especially this idiot holiday. Christmas is just another work day, why celebrate it?" Fiddleford shook his head in slight defeat. "You really are sick, you know that?" He looked genuinely sad about the whole argument. "But I still have enough hope for you to simply say this: Change your perspective. Before midnight tonight. Fix how you feel, it is not worth it!" He pointed to himself, "Do you want to end up like me? Do you want the worst treatment ever imagined give. to you just because you have no heart?"

Ford turned away from Fiddleford. "If there is anything besides me 'changing my ways' then I suggest you leave. It's wasted time otherwise." Fiddleford looked offended, then let his anger explode. "You clod! I'm trying to help you, and you straight up ignore me? What kind of person are you?" "The kind who really doesn't want you company right now." Ford interrupted. Fiddleford wasn't going to give up just yet. "Ford, I care about you. If you don't want to change for yourself, please do it for me. Don't you still care about me? What about your brother, Sta-"

"DO NOT SAY HIS NAME!" Ford shouted at the top of his lungs. Fiddleford stopped himself as he got a good look at his friend. He looked as sleep deprived as he could possibly get, he had a face of anger, and he noticed slight tears in his eyes. He always knew talking about his brother was a touchy subject, but he had never yelled at him for bringing it up. Maybe he just needed some sleep. Fiddleford sighed as he started to finish his argument. "I will leave you off with one final piece of knowledge.

"Since you cannot give into kindness by me, you will be visited by three spirits. Each is persuasive and, if I were you, I would give in to their argument as fast as possible. There is more to come after me. I am the least brutal of the night. After all, we all knew it was never going to be easy persuading you. Well, I wish you good health and wise decisions. You will need it." And with that, sudden winds flooded Ford's bedroom before he could react to anything Fiddleford had said. When the winds died down, he looked for Fiddleford. He was no where to be found.

Ford just stood there for a couple seconds as he processed what he just witnessed. Had he really just had an argument with his old acquaintance? What spirits were Ford going to see? What did he mean by all those warnings? He shook his head. He was being silly. All of this was probably just some crazy illusion or dream. "Bah..." he mumbled under his breath as he climbed back into his bed. Just like before the encounter, he checked the time on his clock: 11:25 pm. No time has passed, apparently.

For some reason, this threw Ford off completely off the edge. Even if this was a dream, time still would have passed. This makes no sense, none of this is supposed to be possible. He feels like he's in a Stephen King novel! Is he losing his mind? What was happening next? Was he really going to be visited..
He shook his head once more and blew out his candle. He never realized it had been blown out before. He rested his head in his pillow and closed his eyes, hoping to get a good night's sleep.