The thick wooden beams supporting the roof, towered over me. Judging me. I had never realised how sinister they looked. Their dark knots fixed unblinking at my sleeping form.

I shifted slightly in the bed. Was that a breeze? Did I leave a window open? The days had been hot and muggy after all.

I couldn’t remember. And I didn’t want to leave the comforting bed and brave the darkness.

I turned and rolled over again. The hesitant seconds creeped slowly forward.

Then so calmly, I felt the middle of the bed, just behind me and about midway down, sag gently. As though someone had just sat down.

I was of course, alone in the studio. As always. And I had the only keys to the door.

It took less than one of those interminable seconds, for my body to coat itself in sweat, which chilled almost instantly. I wanted to look around, and prove to myself that this was just some sleep-deprived illusion, like ‘old hag’. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

The scream in my throat came out as a high pitched whimper.

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