The woman stares at me with terrified eyes. Even through her fear, I can tell she still loves him…and this stupidity is going to make her give away our location. She’s going to get us killed.
The place is a mess of tools and other junk, so it isn’t hard to find a weapon. When the woman calls out-like I knew she would-I give the guy a solid whack on the head with a heavy iron tool. For good measure, I cut his arm with a long silver blade that was also on the ground. It slices through to the bone. Both the man and woman scream, and I run.
I run through darkness where packs of growling dogs lunge at me. When necessary, I wound them, too. I crawl through other people’s barns and yards, dirty, disheveled, and bleeding, desperately trying to save my own life.
Needless to say, I haven’t been getting much sleep lately.
The above is a partial description of the nightmare I had last night. It was so real that I was afraid to go downstairs when I woke up, and I even checked the address of the safe place I was trying to get to in my dream.
I’ve been having these night terrors ever since I received the email on Sunday night that I made it into the fight camp. Somehow, I’m thinking the two are related.
Whenever I have a nightmare, it’s a fight-or-flight scenario similar to the one above. Someone is always after me, or someone I love, with the intent to kill. Thankfully, I always seem to get away, but I’m usually still running when I wake up.
Nightmares were easier to handle when I was a kid. I would stumble through the dark hallway into my parents’ room, make myself a little bed on the floor near my mother’s side, and fall asleep. I never had a single nightmare as long as I could hear my mother breathing. As an adult, they’re not so easy to shake.
Anyone who says, “it’s just a nightmare,” has never had one. Apparently, the resulting stress and sleep deprivation can lead to heart attacks and other nasty stuff. I haven’t slept well in two days now.
Do you ever suffer from nightmares? What’s your cure of choice?