#Breathe

Hiding from trick-or-treaters in a house that isn't yours... fall asleep early, try to relax... silence... unfamiliar sounds as the wind blows a branch across the roof... find ourselves in a kitchen, the only light is the moon reflecting off patio floor... intriguing, this box on the dining room table, was it there before? Can't recall... antique, by the look... Aged burgundy sides with four ancient brown bands securing the contents inside... quite enticing, really... something slips between the lid, a shadow that falls to the floor like fabric... at first glance, it appears to be an empty onesie, an emo Millenials' pajamas come to life as it twists into a standing position, turns to open the straps securing the box and release more of its friends... shock begins as you stomp full force onto its haunted form while another begins to emerge from the dark crate... you turn to force it back into its prison as its predecessor attempts to fight from under your feet... a shadow moves outside as a third falls from the deck, reaches towards the door to let itself inside... behind you, another one drops from the balcony and begins to shamble in your direction, filling itself into solidity with every step forward... it's too much to process, you start to hyperventilate, the shadows are closing in... breathing becomes labored, eyes everywhere as you frantically look for purpose, explanation and escape... your breathing sounds fierce, animalistic, primal... there is no escape... you snap awake, upstairs, moments before... "I'm sorry... I was having a nightmare..." unable to return to sleep, you head downstairs towards the kitchen...