A Haunted Christmas

Jingle bells, mistletoes, ghosts, and scarecrows! These are a few of my favorite things. Christmas and Halloween — what an ironic combination!

After watching a horror movie last week, joy and terror merged to corrupt my subconscious. Come with me while I tell you about my nightmare…starring Barbie and Ken.

Trigger Warning: This story contains graphic content regarding death and suicide.

Merry Christmas

It was an unseasonably warm morning on December 25th, 2017. The church service had just ended, and everyone gathered around a table of sweets. Behind me stood a beautiful man with short brown hair, tan skin, a white t-shirt, and denim shorts. He’s sexy, but damn! Does he know it’s winter in Chicago? I wondered.

“Merry Christmas!” he exclaimed, his blue eyes glistening under gold Christmas lights.

But he wasn’t talking to me. I turned around and rolled my eyes. Of course, it HAD to be the sexy blonde in a bright pink dress. Apparently, she also missed the memo that this was a church service on Christmas…in Chicago.

“Merry Christmas, bro!” she cheered.

Oh, thank you, God! I thought. Then she looked at me with a seemingly plastic smile.

“Hey! Merry Christmas! I’m Barbie!” she squealed.

I almost choked on my hot chocolate. Barbie? Okay, she fit the stereotypical impossibly thin Barbie I played with as a child. (That sounds wrong, but oh well).