You’re lying in your bed, and you can’t seem to close your eyes. The song you play doesn’t seem to be doing its job. All you can think about is death. Your eyes well up, knowing one day it will happen. Your heart begins to pound; your breathing becomes more labored. You’re having a panic attack. You look for something to drink but find nothing. You begin to panic more. Your mind starts to play tricks on you. Dark shadows dance across the walls of your room. You can’t move or think anymore. Your mind soon starts to fill with images of death. You can hear the agonizing screams of people calling out for help. You want this to be over so you can go to sleep, but it doesn’t seem to work. The screams continue and they seem to be getting louder and louder. More tears pour down your face as the screams of the dead continue to get louder and louder. Then it all stops.

You look around, able to move again. Your toes wiggle, your arms are shaky but movable. You sit up slowly, looking around your darkened room. Crawling out of your bed, you make your way out to the hallway to your bathroom to get yourself a glass of water. You walk back to your room, freezing in midstep. There, standing in the corner of your room, is a tall black shadow. It looks up at you. There’s nothing but a black mass of darkness. You can’t move again. Your eyes are locked on its black void of darkness. It moves from the corner of your wall and starts to make its way towards you. You stand your ground, but you can’t move at the same time. The shadow looks down at you, tilting its head to the side. Gulping in your throat, you grip the glass in your hand for dear life. The thing reaches out with a boney hand, taking the glass from you.

“Go back to bed.” It says with a crackly dead voice.

You do as you’re told, crawling back into your bed, throwing the blanket over your head. Curling into a little ball, you slam your eyes shut counting to ten.

“It’s not your time yet.” It says again.

You whimper, wishing this night would end. You peek out of your blanket to see if it is still there. It stands there, looking down at you. You cover back up once again, wishing morning would just come. You soon become so tired you finally pass out.

The sound of birds singing and the barking of your dogs wake you up. You peek out of your covers. The thing isn’t there anymore. You push the blankets off you, running out of your room down to your family. They stare at you with a puzzled look. You shake your head, saying it was nothing.

The day goes on like normal, till night time comes. You dread going back to your room, fearing it is there. Cautiously, you push open your door. Nothing is there. You sigh with relief. You turn your lights off, crawling into bed, closing your eyes and falling asleep.

“Don’t wake up till morning.” A dead voice says to you.

You cringe when you feel the boney arm wrap around you as you sleep. The thing is next to you, holding you as you sleep.

“See you tomorrow night.”