I throw my jacket over its hook on the door, exhausted from a long day's work.  It's pitch black in my living room.  I find my way over to the light switch and place my hand on it to flick it on.  Why my hand lands on an old, bony hand is beyond me...

I asked her why he was breathing so hard - it echoed between the cement walls around us.  Her face showed fear as she looked at me.  "I'm not."

They celebrated the first cryogenic freezing in the history of mankind.  He had no way of letting them know he was still conscious.

Don't be scared of monsters, just look for them.  Look to your left, look to your right, under your bed, in your closet... but never look behind you; she hates being seen.

I woke up to hear knocking on glass.  At first, I thought it was coming from the window until I heard it come from the mirror again.

She wondered why she was casting two shadows.  After all, there was only a single light bulb in the empty room.

I just saw my reflection blink.

Growing up in a house alongside cats and dogs, I got used to the sounds of scratching at my door as I slept.  Now that I live alone, it is much more unsettling.

I awoke to the sound of the baby monitor crackling with a voice comforting my firstborn child.  As I adjusted to lie in a new position, my arm brushed against my wife, fast asleep next to me.