I dreamed the naptime bell was a real door

I was standing in the hallway, and the bell didn’t chime—it opened. A sliver of light spilled out, not from the ceiling, but from the sound itself. Kids were already inside, curled like roots under soil. One looked up and said, 'We’re not sleeping. We’re waiting.' I reached for the handle, but my hand passed through. The door closed. Then the whole room started humming—just low enough to feel in your teeth. I woke up with my shoulders tight, like I’d been holding my breath for hours. Not sad. Just… full.