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Insomnia
I couldn't sleep. It felt like hours
had gone by, but in reality it had only been about fifteen minutes. Before
coming upstairs, we had done what we do every Christmas Eve: we watched Scrooge and opened a present. Of course,
the present was always pajamas. We ate little cubes of cheese, meatballs, and
some crackers along with some steaming apple cider, and then, like every year,
my two sisters and I are sent to bed.
Unfortunately, I didn't seem to be able to sleep. I had experienced this problem before, but never to this degree. Time kept passing, and I just kept lying there, in my tiny bed, awake. I tried to count sheep, but that method had never worked for me. All I wanted was to go downstairs and see what I got from Santa, but I knew that if I went too soon, nothing would be there yet. I had to wait.
So I waited.
During this time, I thoroughly regretted having a clock that ticks. In the complete silence of the house and dark of my room, all I heard was the even “tick… tick…” of my clock. It didn't quite make me angry, but it was the main cause of it being near impossible for me to get to sleep. It was approximately two hours later when my body decided it would allow me some rest. So sleep I did until my alarm woke me up at 2:00 in the morning. Finally, the time had come to sneak downstairs and see my presents.
I crept into my sister Carol’s room and poked her on the shoulder. She didn't budge. I poked again, but there was still no response.
“Carol,” I whispered. I certainly was not planning on going downstairs in the pitch black darkness by myself.
“Caaaroool,” I whispered a bit louder. “It’s time to wake uuuuuuup.” I poked her again. Still no response. I took this opportunity to nudge her over and over again until, eventually, she woke up.
“It’s time to go look!” I exclaimed quietly. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and got out of bed, grabbing her flashlight and making her way downstairs without a word. We carefully avoided the spots in the hallway that we knew would squeak; we didn't want out mother to know that we always snuck down to look at the presents early.
Our presents from Santa were always laid out in a certain fashion. My oldest sister Lauren’s were on the longest couch, Carol’s were in front of the fire, and mine were on the smaller couch. When the two of us went to our respective sections, we were happy with what we found.
On my couch, as well as Carol’s pile, was a PlayStation 2. We had both wanted one for a while, so that pretty much made my Christmas. For me, there was also an extremely large, gray throw blanket, a book I had been wanting, a coloring book and some crayons, a big teddy bear, a furry, blue robe, some colorful pens, some chapstick, and various other things that are too numerous to describe.
After we finished looking through all of our things, we quietly made our way back up the stairs and back over the squeaky spots in the hallway. This time was much better than the first. I was able to lie down in my bed, disregarding the candy cane under my pillow, and fall asleep within ten minutes. And I knew, when I woke up again, that I had a fun day ahead of me.
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