A CHRISTMAS CAROL WITH A TWIST

It was a cold, dark Christmas Eve night. Scrooge struggled out of the taxi and swayed from side to side as he made his way to his front door. He fumbled around in his pocket for his door key, and eventually managed to put it in the lock.

He never liked the nickname 'Scrooge‘ – his friends had started using it because he was always the last one to offer to buy a round and the first one to come up with excuses to avoid having to pay. He thought he had done well tonight – he‘d lost count of how many drinks he‘d had, but he was sure he‘d only paid for a couple of them.

He still couldn‘t get his head around that strange bloke he saw as he was leaving the pub half an hour ago. He said that his name was something Marley. Bob? No, surely not. But it sounded similar. Jacob, perhaps?

He had appeared out of thin air, and disappeared just as quickly. It must have been a hallucination, thought Scrooge. He had taken some pills, and although he had no idea what they were he assumed that they must be hallucinogenic. The vision seemed real, though, and it even spoke to him.

'You will be visited by three ghosts later tonight". Marley had told him.

Scrooge thought that this was some kind of threat. After a few drinks, pills, and lines of coke he tended to get paranoid and angry, and he was just about to square up to the strange man when he had vanished.

Scrooge stumbled into his front room, knocking over some of last night‘s cans which he hadn‘t bothered to tidy away. As they fell over, some flat lager spilt onto the floor, and was soaked up by some final demand letters Scrooge was trying to ignore. He sank into his armchair, the room spinning around him.

Then, all of a sudden, Scrooge sat up straight. "I must be tripping!" he said out loud, as another strange person appeared like a ghost in front of him. "If I‘m going to hallucinate someone, I‘d prefer an attractive blonde to a weird old man!" said Scrooge."I‘m not a hallucination. I am the Ghost of Christmas Past!" boomed the visitor, "and I‘m here to help you mend your ways!" "I don‘t need to mend my ways, whoever you are" slurred Scrooge. He tried to stand up, but then felt queasy and slumped back into his chair. He could feel ten pints of lager trying to jump back out of his stomach.

Scrooge‘s eyes blurred, and when the colours and shapes returned to a recognisable pattern, he realised he was now back in his childhood home. He was looking down from above, and saw himself as a boy, with the rest of his family. It was Christmas, and although they could never afford many presents, they always had a great time, playing games on their console, laughing at the television, eating a meal they had prepared together. Scrooge saw his sister, who he hadn‘t seen since they fell out over some money Scrooge borrowed from her. The money was to pay off a dealer, and Scrooge never got round to repaying his sister, so she said she wanted nothing to do with him. Scrooge also saw his brother, who he hadn‘t spoken to since they had a fight after one too many drinks. "I wish my Christmases now were like those I used to have". said Scrooge, as his childhood home disappeared and was replaced by the bare walls of his flat. Then he realised that he was alone again – the Ghost of Christmas Past had vanished.

.What was that all about?. said Scrooge to himself as he looked around for his outlandish visitor.

"What was what all about?" said a different voice.
Scrooge saw that someone else was standing where the Ghost of Christmas Past had just been. "Who are you?" "I am the Ghost of Christmas Present!" announced the new visitor. "I didn't realise gifts had ghosts." Scrooge replied, confused.

"Not that kind of present" said the ghost, shaking his head, 

"The present. The here-and-now. At this moment"."Well, that's a bit dull, isn't it? The other ghost made me see the past. It was great to see what my old Christmases were like. Better than how I spend my Christmases these days."

Scrooge looked around his untidy and unfestive flat. He didn't bother putting up Christmas decorations, as there was no-one else to see them. He had lost contact with his family when the drink and drugs started to take over his life, and he didn't expect the dealers or bar staff he knew to send him any cards. The friends he had now were really just drinking partners.

"It doesn't have to be like this." said the ghost, and Scrooge's vision started to blur again.

When the mists cleared, he saw a group of people out in town. They were laughing and having a good time, without the drug fuelled arguments and drunken attempts at small-talk that Scrooge was more familiar with. They seemed genuinely happy, rather than pretending to be happy, like Scrooge and his so-called friends. "Why don't I get to meet people like that?" asked Scrooge. But the ghost had already gone.

Scrooge looked down at his watch. It was a few minutes before midnight. "The third ghost hasn't got long to get here." he said out loud. "Hang on! Hang on! Give me a chance!" said a voice, and another ghost materialised in the room. "Which one are you?" Scrooge asked. "I am the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come!" said the third ghost.

"Wow! I get to see into the future! Can I get next week's lottery numbers?" said Scrooge, excitedly."I'll be showing you what your future will be like if you carry on with this lifestyle!"

Scrooge noticed his vision blurring again, and he waited for the mists to become clearer to show him what the future would bring. But, after a couple of minutes he could still only see the same nothingness. Eventually, the walls and furniture of his room reappeared, along with the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come standing in front of him.
"Is that it?" said Scrooge, "I didn't see any kind of future at all!"

"Exactly!" replied the ghost, and promptly disappeared.

When Scrooge woke up on Christmas morning, he felt different, despite the hangover. His attitude had changed. The drink and the drugs no longer felt as important as they did before. They had been a substitute for living, and had affected not only his relationships, but his health and finances as well.

He knew that he wouldn't be able to change everything at once. Reducing how much alcohol he drank would have to happen gradually. And he would need help to avoid the drugs that he had come to rely on.

He realised that it would take time to find new routines and new friends, too. He didn't expect his recovery to always go smoothly. But, with support from people who wanted him to progress, and with his own determination, he knew that next Christmas could be better.