I have vivid dreams sometimes. They are normal dreams, with normal people I know, doing normal dream-like things. But they are clear, vivid, and intense.
By the end of the dream my heart will race, it will pound so hard it wakes me. But I calmly awake in a very still fashion and instantly I know I'm not alone. The bedding surrounding me is ice cold, the tips of my fingers and my lips feel like ice cubes. I blink, and widen my eyes, my eyelashes feel like hot ash on the ridges of my cheekbones. The hole in my chest feels heavy and hollow.
I reach over to my son who is still asleep. He is warm, untouched, unharmed. His soft breathing eases me, but only for a moment.
I can feel them, but I can't hear them. I reach into the air above my bed, it's cold and sharp. It's dry, and stings my frozen hands. What do they want from me?
Death looms over my head, it follows me like a shadow. One can only assume after nights like these that my time is coming. It may not be death. But it scares me only the way death scares people. It scares me stiff, it horrifies me.
Within seconds, the blood rushes back to my face, my fingers tingle with warmness, and the empty hole fills with sleepiness. I close my eyes, and I see His face.
"It's been a while" He says.
I ignore Him and fall asleep.