Answer:
I may seem real but it always turns out I was never there in the first place... you only see me during a certain resting stage.
Better touch me before you proceed to second. What am I?
A dagger thrust at my own heart dictates the way I'm swayed. Left I stand and right I yield to the twisting of the blade. What am I?
People need me yet they give me away every day.
I am lighter than air, but a hundred people cannot lift me. Careful, I am fragile. What am I?
When is it bad luck to see a black cat?