The Night Terror

Dear Shawn,

It’s not very often that I have nightmares, and usually, when I do, I actually enjoy them. As a writer, they are often fodder for great ideas. Very rarely do I have a nightmare that really scares me. Last night was such a night. After it woke me up, I laid still, terrified there might be someone in my room, listening carefully at the whole house. A cat was lying next to me. Phoebe always lays next to me on my left side. This cat ball was my right, so I assumed that it was Cooz. He didn’t move. I didn’t move. That cat had no idea what I had just lived through, and that was a good thing. Then my mind raced.

In the dream, I was witnessing an active shooter situation, except that for part of the dream, I was the shooter, and part of the dream, I was the shoot-ee. I approached my target, took aim and fired. The gun misfired, so I cocked it and fired again. Another misfire. At this point, I became the target. I hid in the corner and threw a sheet over me. I can’t see you, you can’t see me, but he did. He came close and fired a third time. At this time, I was witnessing the entire ordeal, seeing the shooter misfire, and the terrified target trying to hide, but to no avail. I was hit and could feel the warm blood oozing out of my body, feel the dampness as the blood pooled into the sheet that now clung to me.

I awoke. My mind now began to evaluate what just happened. I thought how I should have just run after the first misfire, maybe even mow the shooter down- he wouldn’t have anticipated that. I would still be alive had I just run and not tried to hide. But I was alive! Scared. I listened and didn’t move at all, not even wanting to breathe.

Unable to move to see what time it was, I have no idea when I finally fell asleep again, but I would estimate it took at least half an hour. At least the cat’s body heat was comforting. When my alarm went off and it was time to get ready for work, I was much more at ease. It appeared that this happened only minutes after last falling asleep, I could tell from the different lighting, that had to have been a while. I reached down, expecting to touch the fur of Cooz, since Pheebs never sleeps on my right side. The warm cat body was still just as comforting now, as it was after my nightmare. It didn’t feel like cat fur, and there was a dampness on my hand. I looked and my heart sank as I found my had red with blood. The warm lump at my side was not a cat, but a blood-soaked sheet.

No, not really. It was just a cat, but it wasn’t Cooz. It was odd for her to be where she was, but it was Pheebs. Sorry to freak you out, I know how delicate you can be. I did warn you, however, that nightmares are often fodder for my writing. Enjoy your day.