chapter one

with a frightened gasp,

she woke.

red

red

red

red

kept flashing

images refusing to leave –

the sanctuary her mind previously offered

no more.

 

for the past

three weeks

the same dream woke her up

and made her weak.

a cacophony of pain

and untelling

horror.

 

who was she?

who were they running from?

who was the baby?

did she die?

why am i having these dreams?

because she knew,

deep down

she knew.

they didn’t have the quality of dreams

a mist-like disconnectedness

a subconscious understanding

of an alternate reality –

but of a

memory.

 

shaking it off,

she heaves herself off the bed.

a sound –

is that a knock?-

interrupts the silent-stillness of her

apartment.

 

well, isn’t this interesting?

 

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