Because I want to play fnaf so badly, I often have weird dreams about it.

I dunno what the other kids think about this picnic, but I'm pretty suspicious. The sun is going down. And the animatronics are right there! Well, Bonnie and Chica seem to be pretty chill, but Freddy and Foxy keep eyeing me like I'm a bare metal skeleton without a costume, which, as always, they see all of us as.

"Guys!" I yell, "the sun's going down! Quick! Hide under the blankets!"

The kids hurry over to the picnic table, where a purple blanket lays, rolled up and packed into a soft, cottony ball. We unroll the blanket and huddle together underneath it.

"Shhh!" I whisper. I can hear it. Freddy's playing that classical tune. Then, I see a hook grab at the blanket. There's Foxy. He throws the blanket off of all of us. The kids scream. I get up and run. He chases after me. 

"Come here, you ungrateful weakling!" Foxy snarls. But I keep running. I trip on a random root. I see the sky go black, and I hear Foxy closing in. I scramble back up and kick that sicko in the face. Before I can turn and run, Foxy retaliates with a slap to the face. I run and scream in terror, yet I feel like this is all a game.

Of course.

FNAF is a game.

 This feels like a game.

 It's all connected.

 I really want to play it, I realize as I awake back in my house. Surprisingly, I'm not scared.