Sometimes at night, when I've laid down to go to sleep, I worry that if I open my eyes or turn my head, I'll see a dead girl who is staring at me as she stands in my doorway or sits below the end of my bed, peeking just her head over it. I also worry that if I see one, she'll be carrying a syringe. Syringes make me pale and nervous enough to faint.

I was sure to type this after I had been to bed.