Sunday, 24th December

I knew something was not right when I woke up in the morning. If things were normal I should have only woken up whilst been kicked out of bed. As my senses powered up, I noticed things were in fact far from normal. The bed, sheets and the air all felt different, cleaner, softer than what I was used to. And a white florescent light shone brightly down on me; a far cry from a darkness of my dingy bedroom I have woken up to as long as I can remember. It took a minute or two for my pupils to get adjusted during which - despite the excruciating pain on my right hand - I managed force myself into seated position. When my eyes finally adjusted to light I couldn't believe what I was looking at. Standing there was Suzanne carrying the little poodle in one hand, still with the stupid bow tied around its neck and what appeared to be a plate of goodies in the other. I was convinced I had died - but wasn't quite sure if I had gone to heaven or hell.