I awake from my dream; a scream lodged in my throat. There is something in the breath of me that I can’t understand. There in my blood screaming for me to awaken to what I know not. I can feel the weight in my chest, as it swells, making me gasp for breath. It grows… moving like a serpent through my veins. This dread pulses deep in my soul. What is this feeling? What kind of person can have memories of what I see in my dreams? Is it some horror movie stuck in my head, flowing through my mind like a dark cloud?
I hear the crack of thunder through the window, trying to distract myself; I try to recall if I heard anything about possible thunderstorms on the news. I am covered in sweat, still feeling the lick of flames that threatened to engulf me in my dream. How can a dream be so sharp, so vivid that it could leave me smelling the stench of my own burning flesh? There must be something wrong with me. I’m so hot I am cold. My nose is running, and my face has the feeling of both wet and dried tears on it. I touch my cheek, feeling the salt there roll under my fingertips. Should I pray? How do I escape the images that seem to be seared into my brain? I feel so unsteady and confused. Turning on my bedroom light, hoping to overcome this feeling and gain a tighter grip on reality, I see my nails… How can I have dirt under my nails? This all seems way too surreal.