Santa's My Boyfriend || j.g [DISCONTINUED]

[7]

*Daniella's POV*

25th December (Christmas Day)

I look up from my laptop, the dark room suddenly seeming fragmented and distorted. I squeeze my eyes shut and open them again, the room seeming slightly more normal. Everyone left a couple of hours ago because they all wanted to spend Christmas at their own homes and whatnot. I, however, retreated back to my room and have spent the time wisely by binge watching YouTube videos.

I take my earphones out and strain my ear to listen to any sounds outside my bedroom door. I jump when I hear faint screaming and my pulse quickens. I hear more screaming and that's when I realise that the screaming is coming from the video I'm watching. Is the volume really that loud?

I sigh in relief and turn down the volume a bit. I put my earphones back in and continue watching the video. Before I know it, I've gone from watching prank videos to watching little snippets of Keeping Up with the Kardashians. I look at the clock in the corner of the corner and see that it's just gone past 2am. Whoops.

I hear a loud sound and I take off my earphones. I stay still for a few minutes, waiting to hear another sound but everything's quiet. I slowly put my earphones back in and start watching a new video. Halfway through watching the video, there's another loud sound and I quickly rip off my earphones.

I close the lid of my laptop and get out of bed, turning the light on in the process. I take a baseball bat, only used in the instance that someone happens to break into our house which has never happened before until now. I grip the handle tightly and slowly edge closer to the door. I open it and step out into the corridor. I close the door behind me and tiptoe to the top of the stairs.

I hear a creak and I jump out of my skin, almost dropping the bat on the floor. I whip my head around to see if there's anyone there but all the doors are closed. I face the stairs again and slowly make my way down it, making sure that I don't make a sound.

I'm hesitant to turn on the light but I'm afraid that it would scare the individual lurking downstairs. Besides, the lights on the Christmas tree are on so I'm sure I'll be able to see ahead of me. I reach into the pocket of my sweatpants to take my phone out, ready to call the police, but I find it empty. I panic and frantically search my other pocket but it's empty as well. I realise that I must have left my phone in my room and I grunt quietly in frustration. I would go back upstairs but I might make too much noise. Instead, I stand right by the bottom of the stairs and sit down on the first step, waiting to hear the loud sound again.

5 minutes pass. Nothing.

10 minutes pass. Still nothing.

15 minutes. I get up from the stairs and start to head back upstairs when I hear a soft thump and the sound of someone quietly cursing. I'm suddenly alert and I grip the handle of the baseball bat, venturing near to the living room from where I heard the sound. I press my back against the wall, sliding closer to the door. I take a deep breath and squeeze through the gap between the door and the wall.

My eyes rest on black, scuffed trainers. I instantly freeze. As my eyes travel up, I see white fluff resting on top of his shoes, attached to a pair of bright red trousers that are too big for the person. I see another layer of white fluff, this time, attached to an equally bright red jacket. His belly sticks out but upon inspection, it looks fake. Only the black and gold belt with a buckle about the size of my hand seems to be keeping the fake tummy in place.

My eyes widen and my mouth hangs in shock as I take in the white beard and the very recognisable Santa hat. There is absolutely no way that Santa is in my house. I stopped believing in him a long time ago. He can't be real. Can he?