  Will awoke suddenly from a sleep so deep that his body panicked and his mind did the same, tripping back and forth, trying to figure out where he was, when he was.  Then he became aware of the whispers coming from beneath the bed, and knew that he was in his own house, in his own bed, at the blackest time of night, and that Michael was with him. Michael, dead and gone so many years, was back.  "You're dead," Will whispered. "You're dead."  Will, I'm here. Will, can you hear me? It's Michael.  Dreaming, Will told himself, I'm only dreaming. I can wake myself up.  Michael's voice continued to whisper, but he couldn't understand most of the words. This is hypnogogia, he told himself. The voluntary muscles are paralyzed in this stage of sleep. This is when the boogeyman scares children and people see aliens coming to experiment on them. My boogeyman is Michael, and he's under the bed. I am taking charge by moving my dream arm and clicking on the light. The light will make the whispering stop. Michael will go away. He will rest in peace.  Will continued the litany, refusing to listen to the constant whispers, paying attention only to his own voice