I hope you're in bed reading this. Oh, you are? Wonderful. Now go to sleep.
In your sleep, you will see visions, won't you? Or dreams, as they call it?
You will dream. Dream of a bed, with a girl sleeping peacefully on it. Who is this girl, you ask?
Why, it's me, of course.
You'll dream of the blanket resting upon me, all soft and warm. You'll dream that it's being pulled gently off of me.
But there isn't anybody there except you and me, and I know you certainly aren't pulling it off.
You'll look around in confusion. Notice the television on the floor at the foot of the bed.
...Do you hear that?
Noise. White noise? No, it's beginning top sound like something else. Like.... screaming.
That's when you'll see it. The hands. Tens of them, creeping out of the pitch black screen, one by one.
They'll crawl their way up the bed, grabbing onto the sheets, and eventually.... onto me.
They'll grab me by my feet, ankles, and legs.
They will begin to pull, being certain not to wake me.
They will pull me off the bed, a small thunk for every limb that falls on the floor.
You're scared, aren't you.
They will pull me into the television, which begins to silently, and with invisibility, consume me.
You're panicking. You want to help me, right?
You grab my hand, or my hair, anything that will help you.
You will begin to pull.
You will try to free me.
...but it is all for nothing.
The hands are strong.
You lose your grip.
And let me slip.
So that I may become a hand.
To come and grab you.
The next time you're asleep.
I'll be waiting.
...I'll be your final dream.