When I was younger, I had an uncle, he was my mother's half-brother, and he was this incredibly kind young man. I wasn't around him much, only on the weekends, which is when I would visit my mother and grandmother.

He helped build the house that they lived in, it was a big house, and in the concrete on the back porch, my mother, my uncle Jacob, and my uncle Jason all three had put their hand prints and their names in the still-wet-cement (I wasn't there that day). I was there for a lot of the construction, a tiny child playing on sand and dirt mounds, talking excitedly to them, asking questions, enthusiastically going on about how amazing it would be to walk up a spiral staircase.

When he wasn't busy, he and I would play video games together, or we would watch cartoons. Sometimes he would even let me stay up late at night on the top bunk in the trailer watching cartoons, playing on my game-boy, the sort.

A few months after the house was finished, however, my Uncle Jason and his passenger were in a horrible car wreck. The car was totaled, and he was injured--but he managed to pull his passenger out of the car while the ambulance was on the way. He managed to make sure she was alright before he passed away. This happened close to Christmas, so you can imagine how it felt. Losing someone we all loved so much so close to a "happy" time of the year.

I always spent Christmas Eve at my grandmother's. This is where things started to get weird, in the new house, too.

Christmas was spent quietly, with all of us smiling and remembering him. Well, it was spent quietly until about four in the morning. The TV in the room,  across from my grandmother and I,turned on by itself. The remote was nowhere to be found, nobody had touched it, the usual.

I ended up staying awake after that, how could I sleep when I would be getting something cool in a few hours, anyway? I did the usual, got some water, got cereal, played games, etc.

It got weirder when I went back to the kitchen to get another glass of water, though. For some odd reason, the freezer door had been left open, and I was the only one awake. It freaked me out, tiny-child-me was so used to the threat of stalkers and the sort (which was a legit problem for me a few years later--literal stalkers, fun!), that I panicked and ran back to the bedroom, waking my grandmother up instantly with my paranoia and hysteria.

She didn't understand and told me to go back to sleep, which, you know, I didn't. Too scared? Yeah. So I tried to focus on games again. Sticking close to her and playing on the Game Boy Advance that had been a hand-me down.

Which is when the television switched channels and well, I guess I left Sonic The Hedgehog on the Sega Genesis. I hadn't remembered starting a level, though.

This didn't really freak me out, but. I did kind of quietly ask: "Uncle Jason? Is that you?"

Which is when his photo frame fell off the wall.

Every year, weird things happen around Christmas now. Even with newer pieces of tech, just this last Christmas, the Wii Fit mat kept on finding someone when nobody was on it while I was taking a break, my computer turned itself on several times, one of my friends asked me if there was a guy in my house (she doesn't know about any of this; the only two in the house would be me and my great grandmother)--she said she "thought [she] heard some guy's voice say 'hey'." The dog's and cat were riled up about a corner all day on Christmas--especially the cat, she just kept meowing at it, the attention-wanting meow.

I'm chalking those up to just weird technical difficulties or coincidences, but it's so weird that they would all stop right after Christmas. I'm not saying that my Uncle Jason comes around for Christmas, but it's still a comforting thought, in all honesty.
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