The Light (Morpheus Road) by D.J. MacHale

room, missing a TV show about sharks?
    I heard music. It was so faint, I thought it might be coming from next door. Or maybe it was the TV and it would wake me up from this nightmare. It sounded like a music box. Or something the ice cream guy plays from his truck when he trolls the neighborhood. It was odd but not threatening in the least. If anything, it was strangely compelling. I walked in a daze to my bedroom door. When I opened it, the music got louder. It was coming from inside the house. As far as I knew, there was nothing we owned that would play music like that. I stood in the doorway, listening. It only took a few seconds to recognize the tune. It was a Christmas carol. "Santa Claus Is Comin' to Town." As strange as it was, the music was soothing. It made me think of holidays when I was little. It reminded me of Mom. I remembered coming out of that same room on so many Christmas mornings, carefully making my way down the stairs in the dark, wondering if Santa Claus had paid a visit and what he
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    might have left under the tree. The music was calling me to the magic.
    I walked slowly along the upstairs hallway, headed for the stairs. The house was dark. Had I turned out the lights? It didn't matter. It only added to the familiar sensation of a predawn Christmas morning. As I crept down the stairs, the music grew louder. The song played over and over again. I had a brief thought that if it was a wind-up music box, it must have a pretty huge spring to be playing for so long. Looking to the bottom of the stairs, I saw a warm glow of flickering light coming from the living room.
    I questioned what was happening but wasn't scared because I was experiencing one of my favorite memories of childhood. I was being swept along in a kind of euphoria. I loved Christmas morning. What could be better? It made me think of hot cocoa and candy canes and parents who would ooh and aah when I opened every gift from Santa as if it were the first time they'd seen it. Sure I was confused. I knew it couldn't be real, but part of me wanted to pretend it was. If only for a little while.
    As I moved down the stairs, I focused on the mysterious glow of dancing light that came from the living room. I knew what I'd see when I hit the bottom and turned the corner. The music continued. Did I have a music box like that when I was a baby? Maybe. It sounded so familiar. So comforting. So inviting. I reached the ground floor and walked the last few steps that would take me to the living room. The anticipation was way greater than anything I had ever experienced on mornings of Christmas past. I hoped the payoff would be just as good. When I turned the corner to look into the living room . . .
    I wasn't disappointed. It was everything I hoped it would be. A fully decorated tree stood in the corner where it always had. It was lit with multicolored lights that created
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    a magical aura in the dark room. A fire crackled in the fireplace, where three stockings were hung with care . . . each stuffed with presents. The tree was surrounded by stacks of gifts wrapped in colorful Christmas wrapping. Santa had worked overtime. The tree looked like every other tree we ever had, only better. Glass bulbs of gold, red, blue, and green hung from every branch, reflecting the colored light. A silver garland of beads was draped perfectly from top to bottom. Santa Claus had definitely come to town. As much as I was lost in this perfect dream, I knew that what I was seeing was impossible. It had to be in my head, but at that moment I didn't care. It all looked so real. So perfect. I wanted to touch it, but feared I would break the spell. Still, I couldn't resist. I stepped up to the tree and reached out to one of the golden glass ornaments. I expected my fingers to travel through it as if it were an illusion.
    They didn't. The glass was solid. Was that possible? Could this be real after all? Maybe it had all been there when I got home and I just hadn't seen it. But then