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Rosalie stifled a scream and cowered under her blanket. She had to be having some weird dream that felt like she was awake. That was the only thing that made sense to her. There was no way she’d seen what she thought she’d seen walking by her bedroom door.

The figure was tall and so pale, she could see right through it. It seemed to pause outside her bedroom door a minute. She could swear it even looked in her direction. When it did, she held her breath, trying to bury herself further in the blanket.

What a joke… she would’ve laughed at herself if her vocal cords would cooperate. Every muscle in her body was paralyzed, but her mind was racing. She knew whether she made a sound or not, it was no use. The thing, whatever it was, had seen her. Rosalie was trapped in her bed, her eyes fixed on the door while praying the thing would just go away and leave her alone.

Wake up, wake up, wake up. The words ran through her mind like a mantra, hoping that would end the situation. There were no such things as ghosts and monsters; she’d been told that a million times. She had to be dreaming and she remembered her older sister talking about being able to will herself awake.

Normally, she’d take anything her sister said with a truckload of salt. The older girl spent most of her time trying to scare Rosalie, especially after they’d seen a scary movie. Still, it was worth a try. What did she have to lose?

It’s not working. The thought came with a wave of terror. Was she imagining things or had the figure come closer to the door? She hoped not, but it looked like it. The more she thought about it, the more convinced she was it had. What did it want from her? Why couldn’t she just wake up and end the whole thing?

Because you’re not dreaming, genius. The thought made her freak out more than she already had. As long as she could keep pretending this wasn’t real, she was safe. A dream couldn’t hurt her, but this was most definitely not a dream. Briefly, she tried to convince herself that it was an intruder. As crazy as that sounded, an intruder seemed much less terrifying than the alternative.

The figure outside her door titled its head as it continued to stare at her. Rosalie bit her lip and watched, wishing she could get her vocal chords and limbs to cooperate with her. After what seemed like an eternity, the figure straightened up and backed away from the door. Rosalie watched as the figure turned and moved to the girl’s left, slowly moving out of the doorway.  As the figure disappeared from view, the young girl breathed a sigh of relief. The fact her voice was working at all startled her. She looked down towards her feet, wiggling a toe. She could move again.