Scream.

I half woke up to find myself still sat at the kitchen table, my mug of tea barely held by limp fingers had spilled into my lap. The clock on the cooker said 5:12.
"Is it morning or evening?" I fuzzily pondered, gazing at the yellow light filtering through the window. "Please let it be evening, I really can't face work."
Barely a noise made me idlely turn and look at the floor. With a horror I leapt into consciousness as the shadows began oozing across the tiles towards me with the sound of fingers softly smoothing newspaper. The dark matter appeared to be forming into strange contorted faces, eyes glaring menacingly at me. Empty mouths forming words I was unable to hear above the screaming sound of my own terrified voice.
A bright light pierced through the chaos and an urgent shouting brought me back with a jolt.
"Dad, Dad you idiot what are you doing? Ha look you've wet yourself!"