Bea screamed at the top of her lungs. “GET UP!! GET UP, IT’S CHRISTMAS!!! SANTA’S COME!!!” “Oh my God, somebody needs to shut her up,” Rachel groaned from the floor. “Go back to bed, Bea!” Chloe rolled over and checked the red digital numbers on Rachel’s alarm clock. Quarter to six in the morning? The child had to be on drugs. The overhead light snapped on. Bea came in dragging her favorite blanket, a grubby pink quilt, and body-slammed Rachel. Rachel yelped in pain and shoved Bea off. The child bounced back to her feet excitedly. “Get up! Get up! Get up!” she chanted encouragingly. With one hand she began tugging the blanket off of Chloe. “Get out! Get out! Get out!” Rachel chanted back, she snatched her pillow and launched it at the little girl. Bea caught it. She smiled tauntingly at Rachel before leaping over her body and running for the door with her only pillow. “She can not be serious!”
