It happens again the following night, except this time, Rutger’s scream is louder and more prominent than the night before. In fact, a string of screams is heard, immediately waking me from a Rutger-dream which entails our naked and soapy bodies connected in my upstairs shower. Challenged by the neighbor’s horrifying yelps, I am pulled out of the intoxicating dream, gasp for oxygen, feel light-headed, open my eyes wide, and begin to collect my composure, becoming fully awake.
Because I am naked, uncomfortable with clothes due to the summer’s unkind heat and thick humidity, I find a pair of boxer-briefs from the top drawer of my dresser, slip into the fabric, and have every intention of investigating the Marine and his night terror and screaming yet again.
It’s another terrifying dream, I
