I asked nicely at first
I awake to find sun flowing silently through my window and excitement bursts into my sleeping form at my first conscious thought: Christmas. I bounce out of bed, toes barely skimming the carpet down the hall, my body flung down the stairs in one effortless motion. I enter the living room to find a family laughing happily at some perfectly given joke, and the tree sparkling almost as brilliantly as the mound of presents beneath its gracious arms. Everyone smiles upon my entry, my mother handing me a steaming cup of hot cocoa as she says quietly "Merry Christmas Megan". It's almost time to open gifts when I notice the odd details of the scene. The hot cocoa in my hands hasn't moved an inch and doesn't even appear to be liquid - just a cup filled with stiff brown plastic. I set the mug down to reach for the reassurance of our beautiful tree, but as my fingers lace the first branch, all the needles and ornaments cascade from the tree to form a desolate pile atop the presents. As I then reach for the presents the pile bursts into flames at my touch, and just as the confusion reaches my brow I turn to see my family next to it all, their expressions bubbling from their faces like a photograph on fire, melting away to present the reality hidden by the facade. I awake to find the sun flowing silently through my window and tears flowing silently down my face.