The dreams have come again. They washed over me like the tide, and I felt like I was drowning. The debris left on the sand after the waves retreated was me, broken, naked, hungry. I don't remember the curses they brought to be so bad, have they worsened or am I just getting older, more comfortable, and uneasy with waking up in the middle of the night, screaming, crying, panting, not able to shake the horror that is my nightmare?

The dreams are there all the time now. Even when I am awake I can feel them close to me. They beckon me, try to lure me closer, always promising light and laughter and the memories of youth. And when I succumb, and close my eyes to let the dreams wash over me once again, it happens more often than not, that the nightmares come. I even had the one dream from my childhood I had wished never to dream again. The one dream that I can do nothing against. The one dream that leaves me unable to breath, drowning in the feelings of helplessness.

And just last night I had barely closed my eyes before the vivid images of bloody accidents rammed against my will like an unstoppable force. I had not wanted to see a man get killed by a car, my evening was bad enough as it was. Luckily my husband came in and awoke me, so I didn't have to relive the horror all night. Thankfully he came in just before the screams, when everything was eerily silent. But today I am still waiting for the inevitable scream to come, and I try not to breathe too much, less I let the bubbling screams inside me come to life. Should I start to scream now, I wouldn't be able to stop as long as I have a voice. This is me awake, not sleeping, and I feel like the thin veil to the dreams will be utterly ripped, and I will have no bulwark against the unimaginable horror that is my sleep.