This isn't real.

This isn't real.

This isn't real.

I pinch my eyes shut, trying to will myself to wake up, but it isn't working.

Fuck.

I open my eyes and scan the room, waiting for his silhouette to emerge from the darkness.

"I know you're here, Victor," I say, backing up against my headboard. I turn on the lamp, but the light doesn't reach the corners. It's as if I'm seeing the world through a grainy, dim haze.

I hear his laugh first, low and melodic. It's a sound I used to love, but now it makes my skin crawl.

"Well done, sweetheart," he says, stepping forward from the dark. His muscular frame casts an imposing shadow across the room. "You've always been quick. It's one of the many things I love about you."

The words practically make me gag. He only loves me when he can't have me.

"And you've never known how to take a hint," I snap.

He takes another step toward me. He's wearing black skinny jeans and a tight dark-grey henley with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Between his dark outfit and dark hair, he looks like a walking shadow—menacing and inhuman. His chiseled jaw tenses for a moment, but his expression relaxes into a smirk.

"What can I say, I'm a man who knows what he wants."

"And what would that be? To harass me until the end of time?"

"Cute," he says, walking over and sitting down at the foot of the bed. "You know what I want."

He looks around my bedroom then stands up and walks over to the window. He pulls back the curtain and looks outside.

"Where are you?" he asks, his eyes narrowed as he stares out into the darkness.

"Why do you keep asking that? You're here, clearly you know exactly where to find me."

"Ahh, unfortunately I don't." He turns away from the window and gives me a smirk. "You know what I see outside this window?"

"I'm not in the mood to play 20 Questions again, Vic. I want you to leave me alone."

He glares at me and his shoulder tenses as he turns back around.

"Nothing. I see nothing."

He looks at me with his brows lowered and his eyes burning with anger. My vision starts to go blurry and I fall back onto the bed. I try to reach my hands out in front of me, but I can't see them, just the softly-lit ceiling above my head.

"What... what's happening?" I ask, my voice weaker than I intended.

"This is my world, Sam." I hear him but I can't see him until his face is hovering above me. "I control what happens here. And I can make it very unpleasant for you."

My heart starts to race as I struggle to move, but nothing happens. I can't even turn my head. I swear I can feel my limbs pushing against the bed, but somehow I haven't moved a muscle.

"I can't move," I mumble. I try to breathe in, but my lungs can't seem to pull in air.

"I can make this stop. Tell me where you are. Let me find you. Give me a chance to make this right between us."

I rail against the invisible force holding me at bay, but it doesn't matter. I'm trapped, suffocating under a weight I can't fathom.

"Where did you run to, Samantha?"

His voice sounds further away by the second, fading with every syllable.

Fight it. Fight him.

I thrash violently, desperate to will my body to move.

In a sudden jerk, I lurch forward, sitting straight up in the bed. I'm drenched in sweat and my skin is ice cold. I choke back a deep breath and hold my hand to my chest.

I look around the now dark room, but I see nothing. I switch on the lamp. There's no trace of Victor and the haze has cleared.

"Fuck," I curse, sweeping my hair back and out of my face.

These dreams are feeling more and more real every time.

My phone buzzes and the sound nearly makes me jump out of my skin. I flinch and look around again, expecting to see him, but there's just the soft glow of a screen on the bedside table.

1 New Message.

It's 5:45 in the morning, who the hell is sending me a text right now?

I open my phone and my heart skips a beat.

Vic: Sweet dreams ;)

*****

I turn on the coffee maker and walk over to the fridge, grabbing the Tupperware of mixed vegetables as Pumpkin waits impatiently next to his food bowl.

"Another nightmare?" Zahra asks, rounding the corner in her robe.

"How can you tell?" I ask.

"Well, it's usually not a good sign when you're up before noon." She scoops her hair back into a ponytail and secures it with a scrunchy from her wrist. "Plus, you're trying to feed Pumpkin your leftover burrito. I mean, I know pigs are supposed to be able to eat anything, but I feel like that's a pretty big change in his diet."

I look down at the container in my hands and realize she's right, this is not Pumpkin's vegetables.

"Damn it," I curse, returning to the fridge to find the correct one. Pumpkin gives me one of his unimpressed grunts and taps his hooves beside his bowl. I come back and serve him a handful of veggies, which he immediately starts to devour.

"How much sleep did you get?"

"Practically none. I got home from work at 2, got to bed around 3, and then I was up by 6. So I guess 3 hours?"

"Yikes, girl! You can't keep living like this! You haven't been able to sleep since 6?"

"Yeah, this one really got me worked up."

Do I tell her about the text message? Will she even believe me if I do?

"Why? What was the dream?"

"I..." I pause for a moment, debating if I should tell her the whole story. "This is going to sound crazy, but... the dream was just like the others. Vic was looking for me, asking me where I was even though he was right there. And then... I woke up and..."

I pull out my phone, bringing the message up on the screen. I flip it around and show it to her and her eyes widen.

"Oh my god, what? How??" She shrieks and covers her mouth with her hand. "That is too freaky! How could he possibly know? Do you think he's watching you somehow?"

It's a question I've asked myself multiple times, but it doesn't really add up. Not that anything else does.

"I don't think so."

Zahra grabs the coffee pot and pours us both a cup. She pours a bit of caramel creamer into mine and stirs it with a small spoon.

"Do you think he found you?" she asks, handing me the mug. "Is it possible he could have drugged you somehow?"

I shake my head.

"If he had found me, I'd know. No, he still doesn't know where I am. And I don't think he could possibly be drugging me from afar."

"When was the last time you saw him? In person, I mean."

The last time I saw Vic has been burned into my memory. He was standing across the street from my apartment with a twisted expression as he gazed through my window. He was furious. It was the day I packed everything I could carry, climbed out my bedroom window, and took off for Oregon.

"It was six months ago, the day after I broke up with him—when he showed up outside my old place."

"In San Francisco?"

"Yeah."

I liked San Francisco. I had a life there and I wasn't ready to move away. But I knew I'd never be free from him if I stayed.

"Maybe you should go to the doctor." She chews her lip and shrugs.

"How could the doctor help?"

"I don't know, maybe get drug tested or something? He obviously knows these dreams are happening, and that can't be normal right?"

I nod. She's right. I need help—and a decent night's sleep—or I'm not going to be able to function for much longer.

*****

We all know that look—brows raised, forehead creased, lips pinched shut. The look that says, 'you're crazy, but I'm not going to say that to your face.'

I'm used to that look.

"As a narcoleptic, it's expected that you might experience episodes of sleep paralysis," the doctor says, giving me an apologetic smile.

I've been a narcoleptic all my life, so I know what that feels like. These dreams are not normal.

"I know I sound insane, okay?" I say with a sigh. "But I'm telling you, this is not normal sleep paralysis. He'll do or say something in my dream and then he'll text me about it the next day. He's taunting me. I don't know what it could be, all I can figure is that he's drugging me or something."

"Your drug screenings have been consistently normal and you've said yourself that you haven't been in contact with this man for months," the doctor says. "I understand these dreams are very stressful for you, but I promise you, they're not real."

Easy for you to say, lady, you weren't there.

"If they weren't real, then how is he texting me these things?"

The doctor literally has a foot out the door, looking at her watch as she attempts to brush me off.

"I'm sure they seem related, b-"

"They are!"

"I've put in a referral to our best psychologist. I'm sure he'll be able to help you from here. Take care." She hands me a sheet of paper with the psychologist's details printed on it and heads into the hallway.

Oh no you don't.

I know when I'm being blown off and I do not appreciate it.

"This is not in my head," I say, following after her, my voice loud and exasperated. "I'm telling you, these dreams are different. They're so much more real and I can't move, it's like he's controlling me somehow."

She doesn't even bother to look at me as she approaches the front desk.

"James, please help Miss Fox here make an appointment with Dr. Tuttle. James here will help you from here."

I huff as she walks away.

There goes $250 just so someone can tell me it's all in my head. Thanks for nothing.

I catch another patient in the lobby following me with curious eyes. She's wearing a loose gray sweater and has bright purple hair that has been swept back into a messy ponytail. She must have overheard my rant to the doctor and may now be calculating just how quickly she can get out of the room with the crazy chick who thinks her dreams are real.

"So Dr. Tuttle's first availability is in four mon-" the man at the desk says, but I cut him off.

"Sorry, I'm not going to make that appointment, thanks."

I turn and head for the parking garage, scowling at the floor as I try to figure out what to do next.

Am I actually just losing it?

Is this really all in my head?

As I reach the door, someone clears their throat behind me and I turn around. The girl with the purple hair is standing there, biting her lower lip and giving me an awkward smile.

"Hey, um... sorry to butt in but I overheard your conversation with your doctor and... I think I may know someone who can help."

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*A/N: Thank you for your support! I'm looking forward to sharing this new story with you all and will be updating every week on Tuesdays!