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Fiction Fest prompt: half an hour before sunrise

You know that feeling you have when you know someone else is in the room or even just looking at you? That's what it felt like. I was face-down on my bed, folded into my sheets like a big pile of dirty laundry, my pillow balanced on top of my head but my eyes had popped wide open. The room had suddenly become chilly. I usually get hot and throw my covers off this time of the night, but here it was, about half an hour before sunrise, and I shivered.

The bunny was here. In my room. Knowing that he'd come to our world was one thing. Knowing he'd made it into the house and into my room was something else altogether. He was following me. He wanted something from me. Revenge? Did he blame Sam and me for his incarceration? Did he come back here to bite us, to inject us with his poison? Was I about to die? I knew one thing for sure: if I got bit, no one in any hospital in this world would be able to save me.
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