Blood filled Patrick's palms and ran down his arms. He woke with a scream and sat upright, his heart pounding in his ears. His terrified eyes moved to his hands. Clean. It was a dream. Just a dream.
"Pat?" His mother was in the doorway, dressed in her familiar flannel nightgown. "My God, honey, are you all right?"
He started to nod, started to lie, then changed his mind. "No." He couldn't stop the sobs, but he tried to hide them by drawing his knees to his chest and burying his face.
His mother worked her way to the bed and sat on the edge. She slipped an arm around him and pulled him to her. The contact made his misery worse, and he cried harder.
"Shhhhh. It's okay, honey. Mommy's here. It's okay. It was just a nightmare. It's not real."
But it was real. Horribly, horribly real.
**
