My friend calls me and says I need to get to his house immediately. I laugh and ask if he's scared of being home alone, but he says that's the problem—he's not alone.

I woke up when he hung up, frustrated I didn't see what was in his house. I'm guessing ghosts. Maybe gremlins! I love the strange stories of my subconscious. Though I forget most dreams, I remember nightmares. They're visceral in the moment and remain vivid upon waking. That's why I like them. It seems weird to enjoy nightmares, but that's not how I've always been.

When I was young, the line between real and imaginary was as tenuous as the thread on a doll's dress. I spent the day coming up with stories for my toys, while at night I suffered from sleep paralysis and frequent nightmares. I was never certain if I escaped that monster or if I did Tuesday's homework. I grew out of it, but I still remember one peculiar nightmare.

I'm not writing this to convince you it was real or because I think it's exceptionally frightening. I'm writing because I can still remember it so clearly. It's been thirteen years and I still remember.

I was seven years old, sitting in my dad's car as we meandered up a steep mountain road. It was early in the morning. The air still had a silvery tinge to it and gray pockets of fog lingered on the tips of the mountaintop. We were going to see an old friend of my dad's, a dentist from San Diego. The dentist had two kids, so I was supposed to play with them while the adults talked.

I asked the usual questions of “Do they have games? How long are we going to stay?” and the classic, “How long until we get there?” Not long, son. Not long. I fiddled with the silver chain of my necklace, pulling it through my fingers, and posed my Power Ranger toy on the dashboard.

The house was isolated at the end of a narrow driveway. It looked old and small. Dad said the backyard was big and mentioned a slide, which I hoped was a water slide. It seemed normal. After going inside and getting through introductions, the adults started talking, so I looked around for the kids. The rooms were messy and the house was quiet. I could only hear the sound of Dad talking with his friend. I thought a door opened next to me, but there was no one inside when I looked.

The kids weren't in any of the rooms, so I went back to the living room. The adults were still chatting by the fireplace. There was as oversized red recliner by the hallway. I climbed onto it and stood my toy on the armrest. I moved it around, making noises as its arm jerkily swung down. Then I saw something move beyond its kung-fu chop, a door opened.

A shape peered halfway into the hallway. Something looked back at me. I leapt out of my chair and ran to my dad. I didn't say anything. I clung to his leg, watching the hallway.

"I'm sorry," my dad was saying to his friend. "He's just very imaginative."

"He's probably just bored. He should play outside."

I thought I heard footsteps when I felt a hand touch my shoulder. It was Dad's friend. He said I'd be happier outside. He walked over to the wall and pulled aside the curtains.

The entire backyard was drowned in fog. I couldn't see anything but opaque gray. It seemed thick enough to crack the glass. When he pulled open the screen door, I expected the fog to burst in like a rushing swell. Instead it gently trickled inside, smoky gray tendrils feeling their way across the walls. No one seemed bothered by this.

As I watched, two kids ran past me. I couldn't see their faces. They were around my height. As soon as they stepped outside, they vanished. Swallowed up my the encroaching mist. I didn't move, then I saw Dad snatch the toy from my hand. I let go of his leg and pleaded for it. He ignored me and walked outside, so I followed him.

“I don't get to see my friends very often," he said. "Behave or I'm taking your toy."

"No, don't! Can't we just go home? There's a monster," I thrust my finger at the house. "It's in there!" I tried grabbing the toy while he looked, but he pulled back.

He swung the toy over his head, flinging it into the gray horizon. "Go play with the kids or go find your toy."

I took a few steps forward and heard the screen door shut. When I turned around, he was already sitting and talking with his friend. I took a deep breath and ventured out into the backyard.

It was quiet and way too big. There was no sound but my footsteps on the sticky grass. I expected the fog to clear up or to bump into the kids, but instead I kept trudging alone through the murk. I couldn't feel the cold of the morning air, but my skin felt clammy as a frog's. Crunch. I was now walking on dirt. How far had I gone? I turned around, but couldn't see the house. I was surrounded by the hazy bowels of this immense yard.

I considered going back, but took a few more steps forward anyway. Then I saw my toy. A little silver Power Ranger. I laughed, realizing how little I actually cared for it. But might as well grab it and head back. I was leaning down to grab it when I heard crunching.

I looked up and saw a dark form in the distance.

It was growing and taking shape. As it got closer, I saw the shape was clearly not human. I spun and bounded through the fog. Each breath took in more dense murk. I was excited, but I was slow. I could hear breathing behind me. It was quickening and getting louder. I didn't turn back. Now I could feel the grass under my feet. I hoped I was close enough to the house to escape, I hoped I was fast enough. I wasn't.

The metal chain of my necklace slid along the sides of my neck, then bore into my chin. I lurched back, coughing and screaming at the same time. I clawed at my necklace, trying to escape. But the thing was too strong. It tugged again at my necklace, reducing my pleading into coarse whimpering. I turned my head as much as I could with the chain grating me.

I've never been able to describe its face. I can't remember what it looked like, but I do remember its expression—it was furious. Squinting and grunting, teeth bared as it glared at me. As my sight went dim, it whispered, “I'm coming back.”

I woke up panting, fumbling at my neck to grab the necklace. I felt the chain and ripped it off, then threw it into a trash can next to my bed. I lay still and eventually faded off to sleep. I woke up late and missed breakfast, but I forgot the dream while at school and came home happy.

That night I awoke from another nightmare. I can't remember what it was, but I remember sitting up and glancing at the trash can. The necklace was gone. I looked again the next day and it was still gone. When I asked my mom about it, she said I didn't have a necklace.

The thing in my nightmare did come back. It was a recurring figure, and for a long time I was terrified of it. Now I'm curious what it looked like and if, maybe, I could make it into a costume.