Adrenaline seething, heartbeat racing, breath caught from the moment I wake up, a stifled scream on my lips. Shaking, shaking — eyes stinging with tears not even yet welling. Ominous dread in the pit of my stomach, curling a fist through my insides, cold and slick and heavy.
Something is coming.
Shiver.
Words lost to a haze of memory and confused wonder; what was it that wanted me torn to pieces? Not a bloody violence, not a gory splash of what I used to be but something more insidious and whispering undelicately of annhilation.
The tang of fear on the back of my tongue tastes like I name I can’t bring myself to say.
In the grey light of the morning, fear refuses to be banished, leaving me trembling and exhausted.
Am I still dreaming?
Please, somebody, wake me up.
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