I tried to fall asleep again
One second I was shivering on the bed, whispering the same broken prayer over and over into the blanket, and the next, I was falling into that half-dark space between waking and sleep. Not rest. Not peace. Just exhaustion dragging me under while my mind stayed restless, tangled in the nightmare.
In that dream, I was still in the room. The door still loomed, the shadows still shifted, and his voice threaded through the air like smoke. Only this time, the walls bled. Black water seeped from the corners and hands reached from the floor. I screamed silently, my voice stolen by the shadows.
I jerked awake with a gasp, my heart pounding like a drum. Sweat plastered my hair to my temples. The moonlight through the high window had shifted, tracing silver bars across the floor. I clutched the blanket tighter.
It had only been a dream. I told myself that. Over and over. It was only a dream. It wasn't real. He isn't here.
