"The new Magic Bullet can blend anything and in 5 seconds or less. Watch as it as it cuts through all-"

Click

"Head- On. Apply directly to the forehead. Head-On. Apply direct-"

Click

"Get new direct HD cable from Comca-"

Click

"In theaters Summer of-"

Click
Silence
Darkness

I look at my cell phone for the time. 2:24 a.m. I need to get up in two and a half hours to go on a 15 hour road trip. I put my phone on the couch cushion by my head so I can be sure to hear the alarm at five. Dad's been asleep for a while, now in the only bedroom. Should I turn the T.V. back on? Nah, I need to sleep. I shouldn't be up this late. I lay on my back and close my eyes. It takes a while, but I recall slowly drifting and letting myself fall.

Time moves by so quickly. You can just watch it move by, climbing more and more into the future. Not many people are aware just how fast everything just passes them by. I'm always consciously aware of the speed that the days go by, the weeks, years. One year means so little to me, now. But yet, how could it be that for a single moment, frozen in time, last forever?

I'm awaken sharply. My arm is jerked out from under the pillow and I feel a horrible burning pain in the palm of my hand. I sit up and turn to the head of the couch behind me and see her holding my wrist, stabbing long knife through my hand. "Do you hold any doubt in me, now?" Her voice sounds sharp against me like broken crystal. Her beautifully terrifying yellow eyes glaring at me, glowing in shadows. I snatch my hand away from her and hold it against me, cradling it in my other arm. It burns! It hurts so much! I can feel the throbbing as the blood falls from the severed veins. I can't move two of my fingers. There's warm sticky blood absorbed into my P.J.s and is puddling into my opposite hand. The smell of old copper pennies fills my nostrils greater then it ever has before.

I look up and she's gone. I look back to my hand and there's not a mark on it. I move my fingers and everything is perfect. No evidence of anything that has happened except for the memory of the pain that my hand still holds onto. I hold my hand close to my chest, protecting it, and curl up on the couch quietly beginning to weep. I close my eyes as tight as I can, whispering to myself.

"She's real. She's not just in my head. I'm not crazy. She's real. It's not just me."

My cell phone rings. The front screen glowing "5:00 a.m.".