nightmare

usually, i forget. the memories of dreams dissipate in the early morning light, as soon as my eyes flicker open at the irritating sound of the alarm. scary as it may have been, or sweet as it sometimes was, details of all the stories i carried in my sleep evaporate into thin air when i am once again conscious.

not this one. the one that woke me up in cold sweat many nights ago. the one that is still fresh in my mind until this moment, and the very thought of which sends shivers up my spine. i remember the sadness, i remember the grieve, i remember everything all too clearly, and causes me to look at my endeared beddings with disdain, never too eager to return to its warm embrace again.

dreams don't fight fair. your subconscious knows, even when you not necessarily do, what you are most afraid of, what frightens you the most, and unfolds it into a horrifying nightmare when you close your eyes, playing on your fears and anxiety. that's hitting below the belt, i want to scream. but at who? at my own subconscious? ha. monsters and ghosts don't paralyse me even as much. only my subconscious knows the truth.

i'm not three years old anymore. i can't run to mummy and jump into her bed everytime i have a nightmare. come to think of it, i never had that luxury. i jolted awake, shook my head as if to clear away every single trace of the painful dream and tried to close my eyes again, knowing that dreams don't continue after you have woken up, like episode 2 of freddy krueger . usually. that night, the nightmare continued. sigh.

i'm awake now. it's morning. the nightmare didn't continue into the next night. for that i am thankful. but i know. i know that one day the nightmare will have to turn into reality. it's inevitable. then i'll be stuck in a living breathing nightmare and i'll have no place to hide. even when i awake.