Based on actual events- As I lay here, in the dark. Staring up at the ceiling. Trying to force myself into sleep. I begin to hear them. The ghosts of the night. I hear the soft footsteps of the dead coming to life a mere five feet from my bed. I hear them in the kitchen. The drawers that hold the silver opens. A quick rattle and clank of metal on metal then the drawer closes again. My mind then shifts to the dish caddy. Dishes can be heard moving. Thoughts start to pour into my head of disfigured ghouls getting everything ready to begin dinner. Then the dark thoughts of me being the main course flood into my mind. I grip my blanket tighter. Thinking maybe that it's all in my head. I hear footsteps again. This time quicker than before, and they seem to be coming closer to my bed. I can feel beads of sweat begin to soak my brow. The footsteps are becoming almost impossible to hear over the heavy thumping of my heart. I jerk with fright at the sight of of light that now bathes the wall oppisite of the refridgerator for its door has been opened. I freeze. I try to scream, but fear has drove away my voice along with my nerve. What I once thought was imagination has now become flesh. Or maybe spirits own this house. Either way, I didn't want to be here. After what seemed like ages, I set up in bed. I strain my ears for any noise that may be coming my way. Very careful so not to make any noise myself, I get out of bed. As I walk out of the room I grab the only thing I could find that could be fashioned into a weapon. My dragon statue. Holding my make-shift club in both hands I quietly slink my way towards the kitchen. I can still hear walking, and the occasional bang of a dish to the table. I reach the corner of the doorway. I snake my arm around in hope of flipping the lights on and startling who or whatever was making the late night snack. As I flip the light switch I simultaneously jump out from where I was standing with the statue in a defensive stance. Nothing was there. No dishes out. No silverware. No dish was in the sink. The table was even clear. I begin to wonder if maybe I was crazy. Or maybe where I was tired I just imagined it all. What I thought was the refridgerator light could have been a car going by the bay window with it's high beams on. So I turn and begin walking back to bed. That's when I notice it. Along with the scare of my life. I get a half eaten, nicely put together salami and cheese sandwich. Pinned to it with a wooden toothpick a note reading: P.S. You're out of Miracle Whip.