As you lay curled in your bed fighting back tears, another Christmas Eve ends with the sound of the bells fading marching the beginning of Christmas day. But it is anything but a Merry Christmas for you.

Another holiday in a crappy foster home. You're only a few months from aging out and all you hear from your foster parents is their bemoaning of needing to tolerate your presence during the holidays just to afford to give their own kids a good holiday; how they hope you'll get relocated in the new year when they don't need the extra income anymore. That's all you are to them. its all you've ever been to so many. A punching bag and a pay check.

As you listen to the sounds of laughter and music bellow in the living room as the Christmas party you're not allowed to attend is in full swing its all you can do to remain strong and just try to grin and bare it.

Sleep overtakes you.

However when you open your eyes again, you're not in the shabby attic room, but laying in a bank of freshly fallen snow surrounded by large trees made of...peppermint sticks?

The air smells and slightly spicy. The sun above is warm and bright in the early hours adding a comfortable warmth to the cold that surrounds you. You're still getting your bearings when you hear the galloping of hooves approaching. Your attention is drawn to the figure approaching on horseback.

A man. A...doll?...A doll of a man. Very princely with foppish hair and a perplexed look as he sits atop the living toy horse. His confusion mixes with concern as he looks you over.

"You're hardly dressed for the snow...are you alright, dearie?" his tone reflecting the confusion and concern in his gaze.