Instead of answering, Fluffy jumped to the floor and scooted under the bed. I rolled over and stuck my head down again. Heart pounding, I lifted the bedspread. My cat was gone. But the shimmering gray nothingness that had replaced my floor now had a small blue circle in the middle of it.

From the circle came a new voice. “We’re waiting for you, David. Come to us. Come to us!”

I rolled back onto the bed, pulled the covers over my head, and tucked the sheets tightly around me, trying to convince myself I would be safe if I just stayed wrapped up that way. I have no idea why I thought that; desperation, probably. Who knows? Maybe it would even have worked if I hadn’t fallen asleep.

I tried hard not to sleep. But when everything is dark and silent, and sleep starts tugging at the edges of your mind, even terror can keep you awake only so long. I might have been able to stay awake if I could have gotten off the bed to move around. But I didn’t dare do that. I could only lie there, wrapped in the sheets, still and silent, hoping I would survive until morning. I fought sleep, fought it hard. But finally it claimed me.

Even then, things might have been all right if only I hadn’t been such a restless sleeper. But I was, a real tosser and turner, and it probably wasn’t long after I fell asleep that I flopped out of my protective cocoon. It probably wasn’t much longer before my arm was dangling over the edge of the bed, my fingertips brushing the floor.

I was woken by another hand, cold and damp, grabbing mine.

“Who’s there?” I cried, trying to push myself up from the bed.

The cold hand linked with mine gripped me tighter, holding me in place. I screamed, loudly, not caring what my parents thought this time, not caring if I got sent away for special treatment, as long as it got me out of this room, away from this house.

I heard my parents pounding up the stairs, my father cursing as he ran. I continued to scream as loudly as I could. “Let go!” I shrieked. “Let go!”

The hand began pulling harder.

“David, what’s going on in there?” cried Dad. He tried to open the door—I could hear him rattling the knob—but it wouldn’t budge, despite the fact that it had no lock. “David? David!”

“It’s got me!” I screamed. “It won’t let go!”

“What has you?” cried my mother. “David, what is it? What’s wrong? Harvey, can’t you get that door down?”

The door shuddered as my father threw himself against it, but it held solid.