Later that night, I collapsed into bed after my run. Running was my go-to sleep ritual, driving away potential nightmares, and visions. Despite my best intentions, a dream crept through the exhaustion. Like a good dream often does, the whole thing felt real.

I was in the neighborhood forest, running. I didn't know what I was looking for, but I knew I'd find it in the forest. A stream of black hair caught my notice. That woman from before...she never left the forest. She was always there. The forest told me so. However, she wasn't what I needed to find, and I disregarded the urge to follow her again.

In front of me, a curtain of ivy blocked the path. Beyond it, I knew I'd find what I was looking for.  drew back the lush green curtain, and the other to shield my eyes from the sunlight that began to pour through the opening.

A grassy meadow beckoned, and laying in the middle was someone I didn't expect to see ever again: Rosalind.

"Come lay with me," she said, sitting up to smile invitingly.

Golden leaves glittered on the floor of the meadow as I glided to my dead sister's side. Each step was punctuated by a satisfying crunch. In the beams of sunlight, floating leaves and petals descended in tandem.

When I reached Rosalind, it didn't fully register I was with my sister. A few weeks before, I'd seen her in a casket. It hadn't been her really, but the housing was quite convincing. Several differences were apparent, like the eyes that were glued shut, and the slack mouth. Flowers wouldn't bring her back, and prayers were likewise as useless. Dreams were the key to resurrection.

Rosalind's dress wasn't really a dress so much as it was shining energy emanating from her body. I didn't have anything on either, just an inner light that gave the illusion of clothing. As I carefully laid down next to Rosalind, the light shifted and moved like a dress, refracting a multitude of colors.

I had so many questions to ask, but the left my brain as soon as I thought of them. I wanted to know how Juliet was, or whether or not God existed. However, I began with the one thing stuck on repeat:

"I'm sorry I couldn't save you."

She put a finger to my lips, the smile never slipping. "There's no time for that. Soon, you'll wake up and forget most of this. I need you to remember...keep your mouth closed. No matter what, don't let it in."

"Let what in?"

Trees surrounded the meadow, creating a private room in the middle of the forest. Beyond the trees, I spied another dark flash. Rosalind turned her head in the same direction.

"It's already here," she said. "There's nothing I can do to help you now. The path is set."

A feral grunt sounded from the trees, increasing in volume with each passing moment.

"Why can't I stay with you?" I was anxious, and the grunting worsened the feeling.

"You'll see me again. At the end of things."

"I don't want to go." Tears streamed down my face.

"You won't really be leaving, just as this isn't really a dream. You know that, don't you?"

Growling drowned out Rosalind's words. Something was circling us, waiting for me to leave the safety of the meadow. Two bright eyes flickered from amid the dense flora.

I couldn't help shivering. "When I leave, will that thing come for me?" 

"Yes. When you sit up, your nightmare'll begin. Don't open your mouth." Rosalind sat up abruptly.

Forgetting all that Rosalind had told me, I followed her lead and sat up as well.

In an instant, the meadow vanished. I clutched a down comforter, blinking several times to adjust to the darkness of the bedroom. I was about to sigh, but for no reason at all, I knew I should not open my mouth. Where had that thought come from?

Silence was a nice change from the crescendo of guttural breathing that had threatened to manifest in my dream. Sweat covered my body. My heart hammered in my chest, and it wasn't slowing down. As I drew in a breath, a rancid smell hit me. It was the same burning bacon smell from the forest, but with a potent edge.

The silence gave way to a scratching on the wall closest to my bed, becoming more insistent, so that I strained my eyes to seek out the source of the noise. I could make out a shadow on the wall, which stretched into a full-figured being. Defying the laws of physics, it scaled the wall in a sideways crab-walk, headed my way.

I willed myself to run, but my muscles were unresponsive. While my body battled with my brain, the being crawled ever closer, breathing arduously. The thing gaped at me from its position on the wall, two yellow sockets glowing in the dark room. Finally, it leapt from the wall to land in my lap. For a second, it appeared to be a small child. Then the lantern eyes flashed open, and I recognized the creature from the forest.

One instant it stared at me intently, and the next, two pudgy hands fastened around my neck. As it strangled me, insane laughter hiccuped from a mouth that revealed red teeth sharpened to points.

My mind became blank, not from fear, but from a lack of oxygen. The one thing I could think of, the one thing I wanted, was one more breath. A black curtain fell in my mind, and I had the vaguest sensation of floating. The curtain parted, and Rosalind appeared in a haze, waiting for me in the meadow. Closer and closer I floated, until I could reach out and touch her.

Rosalind smiled and shook her head. "Not yet, big sister."

A force pulled me back to the unforgiving reality of sweaty palms tightening 'round my neck. Acid churned in my lungs, ready to explode. To remove the demon, I flailed my arms most ineffectually. I meant to use them in a more coordinated life-saving effort, but it was harder said than done. Eventually, a command connected with the nerve endings in my arms, enabling me to strike the creature in the face.

Its grip slackened , allowing me a short gasp. Luckily, the beast was too busy recovering from the punch to notice my fully open mouth. After dragging in a breath, I felt stronger. Mentally, I was slipping. Either this was a nightmare or I was hallucinating because demon children didn't exist. Yet, I had just woken up from a dream. The creature felt real, for certainly a hallucination couldn't successfully attempt murder.

To temper my raging fear a bit, I needed to do one thing. Unfortunately, it was the one thing I was explicitly told not to do but had already done once before: open my mouth, and scream my mother-loving head off.

The scream was short lived, because as soon as my mouth opened wide, the creature saw its opportunity. It took hold of my mouth, pried it open beyond a point that logic could comprehend, and climbed inside.

Another scream built up in my throat, but I couldn't release it. I couldn't do anything but thrash in my bed, trying to expel the demon. Nothing worked, and my horror mounted when the thing settled in my belly. I grabbed my belly, unbelieving at the engorgement. I appeared eight months pregnant.

A merciful switch flipped in my head, and I woke up, for reals this time.

Morning peeked through the window, lighting up the room. No one else was in the bed except for me ...and Rafe. My boyfriend was sound asleep, and very much naked. I tried to figure out when he had ended up in my bed. To my recollection, I had fallen asleep alone, yet there he was, perfectly chiseled face at rest on the pillow.

A memory sparked  of his skin touching mine; the difference in hues had fascinated me. Other passionate images filled my head. How could I have forgotten our first night together?

The fog from the dream lingered, but that wasn't nearly as startling as the leaf I encountered after running a hand through my hair.

* * * * *

In the morning, things are never as bad as they seemed in the dark. Once the sun hits, all the ugliness that was said and done fades away with the creeping light of dawn. Even the disturbing visions likely to flare across my brain paled in comparison to the fresh feeling of waking up to a brand new day. However, a fluttering from my abdomen caused me to pause in my morning routine.

I had the faintest dread that I carried a consequence of my nightmares.

As I slipped into a pair of comfortable jeans, another thought occurred to me. Where was Rafe? I clearly remembered waking up next to him, but he was no where around when I rolled out of bed. Last night's possible intimacies with Rafe seemed less and less likely, but perhaps that's how he treated his conquests. It was hard imagining my childhood friend as a heartless swine, but that's where my thoughts were headed until he poked his head around the corner.

"Hungry?" His question was illustrated by a steaming plate of eggs and bacon held up in one hand, a cup of coffee in the other.

The selfless act of making me breakfast, combined with his presence, melted all my worries away.

"I'm starving."