Before any tranquil dreams of sugar plums waltzing on her tongue could surface, the tiny sound of what she guessed to be the front door creaking open awoke her from her peaceful slumber. She sat up among her blankets and tugged on the cord of the lamp on her bedside table, watching carefully as light flooded into the room, only dodging her open closet filled to the brim with clothes And the very corners of the room that were desolate and cold compared to her floor that was littered with toys and trinkets from relatives.
She stuck her ear to the air and listened very closely, twitching with excitement when she heard the same noise she heard earlier of that of a door, but this time followed with a clang of close and a quiet, Merry Christmas.
Her legs were tossed over the side of her futon, and her hands flew to her mouth to muffle the threatening feeling of a yawn that stay unborn. She pushed her weight onto her heels and slid her feet into her slippers that had a pink elephant face printed on the front of both of them. Into her doorway she tiptoed, wincing at each squall of the floor under her ankles. With a gentle tap of her finger, the door pushed itself open, making an almost inaudible grating sound. She peeked her eyes out and saw nobody in her line of sight. She could, however, hear the ho, ho, ho of the dear, old man.
Out towards the open she scurried, tucking herself sloppily behind the corner. Her hot chocolate eyes traveled around the corner and multiplied in size at the display.