The perimeter of my vision has been made foggy and unfocused.
I’m dreaming again.
My back is as stiff as stone, and I’m currently walking through another memory that supposedly belongs to me. It’s one that I can’t recall no matter how hard I try, but I know for certain that it’s mine.
It’s a different year, a different place and a different season than my last dream, but it’s still me that I see. It’s still me that has been separated from the pack. It’s me that is isolated and afraid. It’s him who is brushing dirty fingers across my cheek, and whispering “It’s okay” in my little ear. I want to reach down and pick up the little version of me, and run her far away from here. But my hands move right through her. I can’t touch her. I can’t touch anything here.
As the nightmare unfolds b
