It would be nice to wake up slowly and comfortably, instead of being jolted awake in a cold sweat wondering what could be hidden in the shadows. Sadly, that’s just a fantasy. So he sits, shaking, until his heart has slowed and his breathing has calmed and he’s able to reach out and flip the switch.

With so many things to go wrong, the rest of the day isn’t any better.

Especially this time of year, with the carved pumpkins and the horror marathons.

Why does fear strike when you’re most vulnerable? He’s sick of being woken up so rudely.

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