Noah gasped awake, his lungs dragging in air as if he'd been drowning. His heart hammered so hard it hurt.
For a few seconds, he didn't move, just stared at the ceiling, waiting for the weeds, the rot, the darkness to return. But the room was normal.
The light of the moon streamed through the window, illuminating the room. And he could see the truth for himself.
The walls were clean. There were no weeds growing in his room, and everything was exactly where he'd left them. It had really been a dream.
His chest still ached faintly, but the pain was fading, like phantom pain of something that had never been real.
He sat up slowly, wiping sweat from his face, then pushed out of bed.
The window was open a crack, letting in the cold night breeze. He crossed the room and shut it, sliding the latch tight until it clicked.
The dream had felt way too real. He pressed a hand against his chest. Nothing. Just the steady thump of his heartbeat.
