Christmas Morning

The coldness of the morning air hit Thomas' arm as he slowly opened his eyes. The limb was peaking out from under his blanket, a position he often found himself in after waking up. He gave a small groan as he leaned up, causing the blanket to fall off of his chest. The coldness of the room stung his bare chest, which he immediately took note of.

Thomas climbed out of his bed, moving over to his closet, and grabbing a long-sleeved shirt to put on. His usual morning grogginess was absent though, not from the sudden sting of coldness, but because of a simple fact: It was Christmas. A time for fun with his family, and happiness in the living room as his two kids tore open their gifts. That beautiful smile from his wife as she recorded the children opening their gifts with her phone, a cup of coffee in her other hand. The loving glances the two shared, proud of the work they've put into their little home.

It was all to die for. And luckily for Thomas, it was his life.

He made his way into the living room. It was 7 o'clock, meaning the kids would likely be waiting impatiently for him to arrive, so that they could begin opening their gifts. However, they weren't in front of the tree, or anywhere else in the room. Neither was his wife.

"Jane?" Thomas called out for his wife. No response. "Hannah? Lucas?" Nothing from his kids, either.

Thomas was immediately hit with a feeling of dread. His entire family was absent on Christmas morning. It wasn't right at all.

He walked over to the couch, and noticed something else that struck him as odd. On the small table beside the couch was a framed photo of himself. One that he never recalled having purchased. The photo itself was from his wedding. He gave his usual warm smile to the camera, his tuxedo standing out against the bright white snow behind him. He could remember taking the photo, at least. The small sense of familiarity in a moment of confusion was comforting to him.

Thomas' first idea was to call Jane. She almost always kept her phone on her. Maybe she decided to take the kids on an early-morning trip to the grocery store for a last-minute item pickup, opting not to wake her husband.

However, Thomas realized that he hadn't seen his phone in his bedroom, nor was it in his pocket. It seemed like many things were off this morning. Sighing, Thomas chose the harder, but, at this rate, only option: He would drive to the grocery store himself, and try to find his family.

Thomas grabbed his keys from the kitchen counter, noticing that they looked somewhat scuffed. However, he paid it no mind as he exited his home, locking the door behind him. When it seemed that nothing else could be off, though, Thomas made another discovery. His car was missing.

Jane had her own car, since she had a job at a school, while Thomas worked in retail. Their shifts didn't align, so they made the mutual decision to buy two. It seemed to be a smart idea as time went on.

Unsure of what to think, Thomas pressed on, sighing once more as he decided to make the trek to the grocery store on-foot. It would likely only be a five-minute walk. It would give him time to think.

Thomas did just that as he took in the sights of the snow falling from the sky, and the many families out and about, their spirits up as they celebrated. Soon enough, he would be doing the same with his family. It wouldn't be much longer.

As Thomas turned the corner that would take him to the grocery store, he spotted two sets of skid marks at the intersection of the roads. It seemed to be a head-on collision, with the two sets of tire-tracks telling the story of a driver veering out of their lane, and into the other driver. Hopefully, they were all okay. Before he moved on, though, Thomas took note of a car driving by. He missed the exact type it was, but it seemed familiar. The car seemed to be coming back from the town cemetery.

Thomas continued onward, almost to the store. He noticed that the general emotions of the people on this street felt... different. They all seemed quieter. Less aware of his presence. They seemed to be more focused on something else. He wasn't sure what that thing was, however.

Finally, Thomas reached the store, entering it as he breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't yet located his family, but he did see Ms. Johnson, his next-door neighbor. However, before he could make his way over to greet her, she exited the store. He felt his earlier sense of dread grow in size, as he realized that Ms. Johnson's face held a look of sadness, not once showing so much as a grin, despite her being one of the most festive people in the neighborhood. He would have to drop by her house later in the day, to give her a gift.

Remaining focused on his task at hand, Thomas roamed the store, searching for his family. He didn't bother asking anyone else if they had seen them, as he didn't want to interrupt their holiday shopping. Instead, he left it up to himself.

After a few minutes of combing the various aisles, Thomas finally admitted defeat, deciding that he would return home, and hope for their quick arrival. He made his way out of the store, once again inspecting the various people, as well as the tire tracks, before making his way back home.

Once he had arrived there, he spotted something that brought a massive wave of relief over him: Jane's car. It was parked in the driveway, with fresh tire tracks behind it. Everyone must've already gone inside, and Thomas' face grew a large smile as he quickly but carefully made his way over to the door, being careful as to not slip on any ice or snow.

Thomas twisted the doorknob, and pushed in, as the door opened. Once inside, he removed his large jacket and boots, calling out to his family that he was back, and that he had missed them. Thomas made his way into the living room, his smile growing even larger as he saw his wife and kids sitting in their usual spots in the living room.

However, they were not smiling.

"Jane? Kids? What's wrong?" Thomas asked, but his family didn't respond. He stepped closer, moving towards the couch to take a seat on the couch beside his wife. However, he felt himself freeze in-place before he could reach the couch. Before he could question anything, a loud and familiar voice spoke out.

"Thomas Jones." The voice said. Thomas was unsure of its meaning, and chose to continue listening in confusion.

"He left behind a loving wife and two children, Hannah and Lucas, both twelve." The voice continued.

Thomas raised his eyebrow at the statement. What did it mean, "left behind"? He was right here, he wasn't dead.

"Thomas had gone holiday shopping one final time, after tucking his children in for bed. It was late at night, and by the time the truck driver had realized he was heading towards Thomas, it was too late." The voice echoed, despite the living room being small.

The nonsensical description caused Thomas' mind to return to the tire marks he had found at the intersection. All the quiet people, seeming saddened for some reason. Ms. Johnson's strange behavior.

Thomas felt a sting of fear as the voice continued.

"It is said that someone is not truly gone until the last time their name is spoken. With that, I can say confidently that Thomas Jones will not be gone any time soon. Thomas, you were an amazing husband to Jane, and the best brother I could have ever asked for." The source of the voice finally returned to Thomas: It was his brother, Chris.

This no longer seemed like some sort of mistake.

Thomas tried once more to move, and found himself able to. He quickly hurried over to the couch, taking a seat beside Jane. However, she didn't acknowledge him.

"Jane? Can you hear me?" Thomas quickly asked. No response.

Suddenly, she looked at the photo of Thomas sitting on the small table, before rising to her feet, and exiting the room, seeming as if she was about to cry. Thomas heard the sound of Lucas comforting Hannah as another loud voice spoke, this time directly to him.

"It will take a long time for them to recover, Thomas. But they will. It was truly tragic, both for you, and for them. I offer my condolences, if that means anything to you." The voice spoke.

"Who are you!?" Thomas yelled out, his voice shaking. He felt himself on the verge of tears.

"I go by many names. Whatever you wish to call me, I accept. I am here to take you away to where everyone else goes after they pass on." The voice spoke.

"I'm not dead! I can't be!" Thomas yelled back, beginning to cry.

"I am sorry, Thomas." The voice solemnly spoke.

Thomas continued to cry, unable to accept the fact that his life had ended, as he remained there in near-silence. Finally, the voice spoke once more.

"Your record is... exemplary. A life of selflessness and kindness. Nothing but pure love for his family..." The voice said.

"They mean everything to me. The world." Thomas stuttered as he cried. Another moment of silence passed. Then, the voice spoke.

"I can extend more than condolences to you. Instead, I give you an offer: I can return you to that night, with what you know now. You will have a second chance. Another chance with your family. All I ask in return is that you continue your ways of kindness, and, one day, if you can, change someone else's way of living. Put them on the track of kindness, and cause even more good to be put out into the world." The voice spoke. Without hesitation, Thomas responded.

"Of course! I love making people happy, and spreading kindness. It's a win-win. Please, give me the chance! I can do that and more!" Thomas pleaded.

"I see. Thomas Jones, I grant you one final chance at life, a benefit not given to most. While you made no mistake yourself, I command that you continue your life the way you did previously; Spreading good to the people you come across." The voice said.

Before Thomas could say anything else, he immediately felt the sensation of sleep fall over him.

The coldness of the morning air hit Thomas' arm as he slowly opened his eyes. The limb was peaking out from under his blanket, a position he often found himself in after waking up. He gave a small groan as he leaned up, causing the blanket to fall off of his chest. The coldness of the room stung his bare chest, which he immediately took note of.

Thomas climbed out of his bed, moving over to his closet, and grabbing a long-sleeved shirt to put on. His usual morning grogginess was absent though, not from the sudden sting of coldness, but because of a simple fact: It was Christmas. A time for fun with his family, and happiness in the living room as his two kids tore open their gifts. That beautiful smile from his wife as she recorded the children opening their gifts with her phone, a cup of coffee in her other hand. The loving glances the two shared, proud of the work they've put into their little home.

It was all to die for. And luckily for Thomas, it was his life.

He made his way into the living room. It was 7 o'clock, meaning the kids would likely be waiting impatiently for him to arrive, so that they could begin opening their gifts. Before he arrived in the living room, he could already hear the voices of his kids and wife, which caused a smile to creep across his face.

The faces of his two kids and wife lit up as he entered the room, as they were happy to see him. They all shared expressions of love as the celebration of Christmas for the family began. Thomas wasn't quite sure who he had spoken with, or if it was some sort of strange dream, but the experience solidified one thing for him: Regardless of what life put on his plate, he would never fail to focus on his family first, as well as putting out as much kindness as he could into the world. A life like that would be one worth living for a person like him, after all.

With his family beside him, Thomas couldn't be any happier.