Nightmares I Can't Remember

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.


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.

About Catastrophe Jones

Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
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