My first coherent thought is that I don’t know where I am. My eyes are sludgy and slow to open, but I don’t need my vision to know I’m surrounded by darkness. I feel it like an intrinsic part of my personality, or vital organ.

Suddenly a weight sits upon my chest, a heavy pressure that makes breathing difficult. I can’t tell if it’s the physical weight, or panic that bubbles inside of me, but my heart rate increases and my hands get sweaty. The feeling is anxiety, something is wrong.

I finally pry my eyes open, free of the gunk that slowly collects in the corners. Only to come face to face with a pair of slitted eyes. I don’t even know how I can see them, black is pitch around me.

What’s weirder though is the sense of familiarity I feel staring into the eyes. Like I know them, like they know me back.

The eyes move closer to my face and a leathery rope brushes my face. Moves.

I go into shock as I realise what is about to happen, the gift I am to be given. I move to swat the eyes and leathery rope away, when something is dropped on my chest. Moves.

I scream and jump out of bed, in a feat of aerobatics somehow landing on my desk and flicking the light on as I flew.

From my vantage point on the desk, I see a furry body and long tail scurry off my bed, not even being paid any attention by my smug cat.

Merry Christmas Lisa.