Andrey gasped for air with the sheet twisted around his neck. Frantic to breathe again, he tugged at it, trying to find an end. His body was covered in sweat as he twisted and turned on his bed. He was close to losing consciousness when his fingers found the end of the sheet and slipped it off his neck.

He sat up and opened his eyes. The sheet was laying flat over his legs. His neck was clear of anything on it. Andrey was confused. He was sure he felt it tightening around him as he lay there struggling to breathe. But it must have been a dream then, or more like a nightmare.

It was almost time to get up anyway, so he headed to the shower. Andrey let the hot water run over his body as he lathered himself up. His hands made paths across his chest and down his stomach until they met at his cock. Andrey loved to touch himself and make his cock bigger.

"Breakfast is almost ready," his mother called out.

"I'll be right there!" Andrey yelled.

"Five minutes and we start without you," she said.

Andrey reached for the towel and came up empty.

"What the hell?" He moved the shower curtain more to look at the towel bar. Andrey was sure he hung a towel there before his shower.

"Looking for this?" The shadowed figure asked Andrey.

"Who the fuck are you?" Andrey held the curtain in front of himself as he looked around the room.

More shapes appeared next to the figure that spoke. They floated around as Andrey tried to keep his body out of sight. He almost fell when two came by him and moved the curtain from his hands.

"You know who we are, Andrey. We are the authors you stole from, and we are everywhere."

"Ha! You have nothing on me." Andrey dropped the curtain and crossed his arms.

"Andrey, who are you talking to in there? Breakfast is ready," his father called through the door.

"I ain't talking to nobody." Andrey stepped out of the tub and began to dress. When he picked up his foot and attempted to put his boxers on, one of the shapes shoved him in the ass. He fell against the toilet and banged his knee hard enough that he saw stars.

"Son of a bitch."

"You should be careful, Andrey. That sounded like it hurt." A figure right next to him said.

Andrey leaned over and rubbed his knee until the initial pain was bearable. Anger was building at the shadows that invaded his bathroom. He swung his arms in a pirouette to scatter them.

Laughter echoed off the walls in the tiny room. The more he waved his arms around, the closer the shadows came until Andrey felt as if he was suffocating. He slid to the floor as he passed out.

"Andrey, open this door. Andrey, do you hear me? Are you okay? Answer me right now." His father was frantic.

The door banged open and slammed into Andrey's leg. His father rushed over to him and felt to see if he was alive.

"He's breathing. Must have passed out." The tension was still in his father's voice. "But why?"

"Take this and throw it on his face," Andrey's mother instructed his father.

She handed him the glass of water and stepped back. From experience, she knew Andrey would come to fast. He had always been a problem for them, ever since birth. When Andrey had been in school, his parents had known the teachers and principals well, since they had gone in for conferences so often. The local police force was at their home so often the neighbors got used to it. Yes, their little man Andrey had been a disappointment.