HEALING

George always loved Christmas. It was the festivity in the air that lit his senses on fire, the dark hours falling sooner in the day and the smiles on faces as far as the eye could see. Christmas cheer was infectious, and it was like for one short day, all of his worries faded. 

Except this year. 

His worries only intensified. His family were long gone, his neighbour and friend Rachel had gone to her fiancees for the holiday and he was left utterly alone. 

He never did well when he was alone. 

Usually, on Christmas Eve he'd leave the apartment, embracing how easily he slipped into the shadows and gaze at the lights strung up on every available surface. He'd stare in awe at the towering trees heavily decorated in the finest baubles and smile at the sound of laughter. It was the day he felt light instead of darkness - only today, he felt a void. 

George sighed, running his hand through his hair. His eyes skipped over his stark, black veins, turning to take in his apartment. The small area was as bare as it was on every day of the year, with no decorations in sight. The closest he got to festive was the red stains on the floor he refused to clean, the crimson seeping into the floorboards and staining the building forever. 

The box holding all of his happy memories was shoved into the corner, dust collecting on the lid. He hadn't even opened it this year. 

A thin film of tears covered his eyes. He blinked rapidly, shaking his head in a desperate attempt to rid himself of them. All it did was release them, bringing an onslaught of sadness streaming down his cheeks. His fists tightened - this wasn't the time of year to be sad, this was the time of year to feel only joy and let himself be embodied by light. 

He raised his fist. 

His muscles sent his hand careening towards the wall, coming closer to the merciless plaster. His heart was in his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut, preparing himself for the flares of agony that'd shoot up his hand. 

Except he felt nothing at all. 

His hand stopped just short of the wall. A huge breath released from George, and his shoulders slumped. He couldn't even punch a wall without screwing it up. 

The weight on his chest dragged him to the ground. He pressed his back against the wall harshly, resting his head on the plaster. He couldn't wrap his head around why things were different this time, why he wasn't full of euphoria at the sight of the white blanketing the ground outside. 

He just felt empty. 

It seemed all he could do was sigh. With each breath, his body cursed him. With each meal, his mind begged him to stop. With each short moment of happiness, his heart reprimanded him. 

A monster like him couldn't be happy. 

His self deprecation was cut short. A high pitched squeak echoed across the room. George cringed at the sound, eyes darting up, searching for the source of the sound. 

He felt his jaw drop. 

It had moved. The chair he used to sit on as he wrote to Agony had moved, as if it had suddenly developed sentience. It was as if it was begging for him to sit down and pour his heart and soul onto the paper, to confess the darkest thoughts plaguing his mind and make space for the happiness he deserved. 

He didn't process standing up, or moving towards the chair. He sat on the chair like it was second nature. The pen fit his hand like a glove. The paper before him begged for him to defile it, to fulfil it's purpose. 

He obliged, only this time, he didn't address the words to a man long dead.

He addressed it to himself.

- 

hey guys! long time no see! this book was published two years to the day and damn it has flown past. it feels just like yesterday when i released them all. i am still overwhelmed with the amount of support this book has received, and i can never thank you all enough for the love you've shown this book. 

at this rate, i think plans for a sequel will be scrapped. i don't want to ruin the series and try to make it as good as this because it never will be - this book is, in my opinion, so special as it offered a unique perspective i had never explored and now writing a sequel would just feel cheap. but i figured since i was writing a holiday chapter for veni, vidi, vici, i would write one for this. it was nice, visiting george again. with the way this chapter ended i don't think there is a need for a sequel - this was a better ending than i had planned for the sequel. 

anyways i hope you guys enjoyed this little holiday special!

happy holidays everyone, and i hope you all have a lovely festive season!

-thirdwheelchurchill