contest entry - Holiday Theme

I open my eyes and spy a sliver of light peeking through the edge of the window shade. I race over to the window, pull the shade aside and look out to the dull first light that hints at the imminent sunrise. I am the first one up. It is surprising I woke up so early, considering that I was up half the night anticipating the big day. I look over at my brother sleeping on the bed across from mine, mouth hanging open. A droplet of drool hangs from the corner of his mouth, threatening to roll down his cheek at any moment.

I quietly turn the handle on the bedroom door and tiptoe down the hallway towards my sisters' bedroom. CREEEAK. The groan of a loose floorboard under my feet seems so loud in the silent house that I am sure someone will wake up. I freeze and listen intently. There is no sound except the hum of my father snoring. All clear, I push open the bedroom door. SQUEEEAK. Suddenly my house has become the tin man from the Wizard of Oz. I wish for a giant oilcan as I slip through the slightly open door. I peek in at my older sisters. Suddenly, the oldest rolls over and is facing me. I shrink back in the doorway. She will kill me if I wake her up before she's had all her beauty sleep. She wipes her nose with the back of her hand and settles in again.

I stare at them for a few minutes, mentally willing them to wake up on their own so that the rest of the house will come to life and we can all go downstairs.

No luck there, so I back up out of their room and into the hallway. My stomach is in knots. The anticipation is just too much for me. I have a nervous energy that I don't know how to get rid of. I sneak over to the top of the stairs, gingerly making sure not to step on the creaky floorboard again.

I look down the stairs. I can see some of the stockings tied to the banister with a gaudy purple garland. They are overflowing with items whose outlines suggest untold treasures. I strain my eyes in the dim light to see if I can make out what items are sticking out the top.

"I'll just take a quick peek," I think to myself. "Then back to bed for another hour." An hour. That will feel like forever. I've only been awake for ten minutes and it already seems like an eternity. One step at a time. The steps are even noisier than the floorboards in the hallway, but I manage to minimize the noise by straddling the steps, only allowing my feet to touch the outer edges of each step. It's all about weight distribution.

I am down three steps. I can see the uppermost contents of my oldest sister's stocking. A crimping iron, a round curling brush, a handheld mirror. Just right for a thirteen-year-old girly girl. Way to go, Santa.

"Why do I have to be the youngest?" I lament. That means my stocking is all the way at the bottom of the stairs. I still cannot make out anything. I manage three more steps without making any noise. I am getting good at this. As I go for the fourth one I miss the edge of the step and start to stumble. I reach out for anything that will break my fall. My hand catches on the purple garland. By reflex I hold on to the garland to try and keep myself from falling. The garland breaks free from the banister and all the stockings fall to the floor with a CRASH. That is followed immediately by my own body rolling down the rest of the stairs. BUMP, BUMP, BUMP....THUD!

As I lay on my back at the bottom of the stairs, I look up at my whole family looking down at me from the top, rubbing their eyes and trying to decide whether they are awake or dreaming.

"Sweet Jesus! Are you okay?" my mother calls down, brow wrinkled with worry.

"Is it Christmas yet?" I groan, trying to ignore the pain in my backside.

"Well I suppose there's no going back to sleep now. I can see you're anxious to start opening your presents," my Dad answers for her.

My siblings race down the stairs, stepping over me to get to their stockings and trying to properly divide up the stocking stuffers that had spilled out onto the floor.

The pain and embarrassment of my fall from grace an instant memory, I drag myself over to my own stocking and enthusiastically dig in.