Create a character who has the ability to time-travel but can only visit their own past, not change it
Annabelle was awoken at the stroke of midnight by an unearthly glow emanating from the middle of her vast and, admittedly, gaudy bedroom.
As she blinked her eyes open she beheld what looked to be a simultaneously young child and old man floating and shining bright.
"Who are you?"
"I am the ghost of Christmas past."
"This must be a dream. I just watched the The Muppet Christmas Carol."
"It is not," said the otherworldly voice. "You have been deemed in need of a look into your past."
"Okay, rude."
"Perhaps, but true."
"Rude!"
"Come, we do not have much time."
"Ah cause the other two ghosts have to come and get the job all done in one night?"
The ghost froze. "In fact, now that you make mention of it, you have only been deemed in need of one of us to visit."
"That's...good? I guess?"
"Perhaps. Or it could be due to budget cuts."
"Budget cuts? Ghosts have budget cuts?"
"We do not have time for this!" wailed the ghost, "We must anon."
The gaudy bedroom filled with gold and hot pink faded into one of baby pink and stuffed animals.
"My childhood bedroom," whispered Annabelle.
"Yes, do you recognize which Christmas this is?"
"I think it's the one where my mom left."
"Let us see."
A young, bright-eyed Annabelle came running into the room in snowflake pajamas, giggling. "You have to chase me!"
A frazzled woman followed Annabelle. "Okay, sweetie, time for bed."
"But it's Christmas! Can't I stay up late?"
"You stayed up late last night, my love."
"Well, that was Christmas Eve."
The woman's eyes softened, "I'll read you a story."
"I remember this," said present-day Annabelle. "She was going to read me a story and then just left."
"Observe," replied the ghost.
"Okay, I'll pick out a book and--" Annabelle's mother began before being interrupted by a crash downstairs. "Nevermind, goodnight, sweetheart." The frazzled look returned to her eyes and she hurried out of the room without even tucking young Annabelle in.
"And then she left," said present-day, Annabelle.
"And what followed?" asked the ghost.
"My dad showered me with presents."
The ghost nodded as the scene faded and another Christmas was before them. It was a preteen Annabelle sitting by a fireplace with an older, gruff man.
"Dad," started a hesitant preteen Annabelle, "did mom send anything this year?"
"Why do you keep asking about that woman?" he said, taking a deep drink of something foul smelling to preteen Annabelle.
"Because..."
"I remember this too. Why are you showing me this?" asked present-day Annabelle to the ghost.
"What do you remember of the Christmases in between?"
"My mom used to send cards then they stopped coming. I guess she forgot about me. But my dad was always there."
"With gifts."
"Yes? And? My mother abandoned me. He tried his best."
"Hm."
"What?"
"Let us see another Christmas."
The scene faded and now it was a teenage Annabelle visiting her father in his study. The ghost gestured for Annabelle to approach the desk.
As teenage Annabelle and her father discussed the holiday and their upcoming trip, present-day Annabelle observed her father carefully.
He did not wear his wedding ring, though he hadn't since Boxing Day the year her mother left. Some people found it odd that he gave up so quickly, but he had always told Annabelle that she had left a note that he later burned. Her father was fiddling with a drawer, slowly opening and closing it. Teenage Annabelle took no notice of this as her father had just given her several presents to enjoy, but present-day Annabelle looked in the drawer.
Inside it were the letters her mother had sent her, but next to them were drafts of the letters that progressively showed a morphing of the handwriting from distinctly her father's to something more feminine, a knife, and her mother's ring.
"No, take me back to that first Christmas. I have to see what happened," said present-day Annabelle, her mind racing with what this could all mean.
"You know if your heart what it means," replied the ghost, "and you wouldn't be able to change it."
"Why show me this?"
"Those items remain in his desk to this day. Perhaps you, with means of your own now, can right this wrong."
"It's not proof. My father was always kind to me, in his way."
The scene faded back into present-day Annabelle's room. "Then let this be nothing more than a bad dream. My time with you has come to an end."
"He wouldn't have hurt her."
"As you say," said the ghost, already beginning to fade.
"He wouldn't have!"
"As you say," said the ghost one last time before disappearing.
Annabelle stood alone in her room, that her father had paid for with a chilling resolve.
(Prompt by ChatGPT)
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