Panic floods through me. I run to my bedroom door in a frenzy, but as soon as I touch the doorknob I stop. Realization hits me and I slowly turn back to the guy by my closet. He is standing there, looking just as scared as I am with wide eyes and skin as pale as porceline. Is it him? Am I dreaming again?

"Wh-who are you?" I ask. He looks confused for a moment. "Is this just a dream again?"

"If I say no, are you going to scream again?" he asks. A few strands of his black hair have fallen into his lagoon blue eyes, shading them.

"I don't know," I say softly, afraid that if I talk too loudly he'll fade away as just another dream. What if he was the one from my dreams? What if they were never dreams? How can they be anything but dreams though? "Who are you?" Wow, I ask too many questions.

"Does my name really matter?" he asks.

"No..." I reply. Or does it? "Yes."

"I'm..." he pauses, as if searching for words. "I'm... The Boogey Man..." He smiles at me slightly from the corner of his mouth. I bust out a laugh and quickly cover my mouth, trying not to have a laughing fit.

"Boogey Man? You're joking right?" No one this... This... This beautiful could be the 'Boogey Man.' It just doesn't fit.

"I'm not joking," he says, seeming offended. "Am I not scary enough?"

"You are nowhere near scary," I say, but I don't dare get any closer. If this was a dream, I would walk right up to him, but I can't tell if any of this is real or not. I just watch him. He is wearing a pair of black pants and a black long sleeved shirt that slightly hugs his abdomen.

"Well," he finally says. "I should probably get going."

"Wait!" I exclaim and take a step toward him. He stops and looks back at me. "Are you him?"

"Him who?"

"The one from my dreams?"

"Are you so sure they are in fact dreams?"

"I... I really don't know," I say, just above a whisper. "Are they?"

"I don't know either," he says.

"What?" I ask. "How do you not know?" Boy am I confused. He shrugs. "Are you real?" The question comes out with a little more aggitation than I would've liked to have shown.

"Are you real?" he mocks.

"Yes," I snap. "But are you? Or is this just another dream?"

"If I just tell you it's another dream, will you let me go home?" he asks. I just stare at him. Why is he being so difficult?

"It depends," I state. "Just give me a striaght answer."

"Okay... But to which question? You've asked enough questions to make my head spin."

"Are you the one from my dreams? If they are dreams I mean." I cross my arms.

"I guess..." he replies.

"Are they dreams?" I question more, my excitment building. If he was real, that would be... That would be just amazing! He blows up at his tousled bangs, which doesn't do any good at all. He finally decides to just push his fingers through it. "So?"

"Probably not..." I feel my heart begin to beat out of control as he returns his gaze to me.

"You're him!" I exclaim. I sit on my bed, not taking my eyes from him, afraid that his model-gorgeous face would disappear.

"You're not creeped out by how I've been watching you sleep for the past month?" he asks, surprised.

"No," I say, but should I be? "How did you get in here? Wait! Who are you? Saying the Boogey Man just isn't going to cut it."

"Um... How I got in is kind of a long story..." he replies. "And my name is Sebastian." I stand up again and take a step toward him.

"Why are you here? What do you want from me?" I question some more.

"I'm here because I want to be," he replies. "And I don't really want anything from you. I just like watching you sleep. You seem so peaceful..."

"But... You've kissed me," I state. Not on the lips, but he had on my hand and my cheek.

"Prove it," he challenges. He tosses another smirk at me from the corner of his mouth.

"How am I supposed to prove it?" I snap. Another crack of thunder echos from outside and then the light in my room disappears. There goes the electricity. I groan as I look out the window. Ugh! Rain!

"What's wrong with the rain?" Sebastian ask as if he had just read my mind. I look back over at him. It is hard to see him in the dark, but still, by my closet he stands. All I can really see are his pretty eyes, which seem to be glowing.

"I just don't like thunderstorms," I reply. "I can never sleep during them."

"I love thunderstorms..." he says. "They are quite enjoyable to watch, especially the lightning." I follow him with my eyes as he walks up to my window. "Magnificent," he whispers, staring out the window.

"What is so fascinating about thunderstorms?" I ask, as I walk up beside him. I dare not stand too close though.

"I'm not sure," he replies. "I just think they are pretty. I seem to be well fascinated by things that i think are pretty." He suddenly turns toward me and stares into my eyes. "Like you for example." I feel my cheeks flush.

"Me?" I ask, bewildered. His sweet scent, a cologne of some sort, fills my head as he takes a step forward. The smell is so recognizable. This all has to be a dream.

"Why does it have to be a dream?" he asks, brushing a few strands of my hair behind my ear with his hand.

"No one has ever had any interest in me," I answer before I could stop myself. "Wait, I never said anything about this being a dream."

"You said it in your thoughts," he explains. "I can um... Hear them."

"How?" I ask. My questions seem to just keep coming.