I jolted upright from the dream, my breath quick and shallow, as I found myself back in my room, the wall directly in front of me. The remnants of the dream clung to me, a stark reminder of why I should have steered clear of those séances—why did I think meddling with the unknown was a good idea?

My head pounds with a relentless, aching throb.

I need to take something to numb the pain... maybe some downers will help me dull this agony. I turn to my bedside table and fumble for the bottle of Temazepam. With trembling hands, I shake out three pills and swallow them dry, feeling their bitterness slide down my throat. Then I sink back into my bed, its sheets stained with the traces of tears and restless nights spent reliving past hurts.

A glimmer of hope flickers in my mind: maybe one day I'll find happiness. Maybe. I close my eyes, feeling hollow and weak, my stomach gnawing at itself from a week of neglect. Perhaps I'll find the strength to eat again... sometime. For now, I surrender to the darkness, hoping for relief.