Sleep
I was running. But running from what? I looked behind me and I saw a lone rider on a motorcycle, closing in quickly. No, I wasn’t running. I was driving. My hands gripped the steering wheel violently, holding on as hard as I could. I was in a car. My grip lessened, and I focused on the…water?…ahead.
No, it wasn’t a car, it was a boat; following me was a man clad in black on a jet ski. A balaclava covered his face. I focused, stabilizing the boat with the strong waves crashing at its sides. Except the water was perfectly still.
I glided along easily, the propeller chopping through the waves, pushing me forward with great speed. But not fast enough. The smaller vessel behind me was gaining. I wished I could make it go faster, but I had never been on a boat before. Frantically, I pushed on the lever next to me, and suddenly my hands seemed as if they were working on their own, pushing a variety of buttons as if I was a master of the seas.
As I shot ahead, one thought conquered my being: Why was I running? There seemed to be no reason, yet at the same time I felt as if I knew exactly why. So I pressed on, urging the boat to go even faster. A bullet broke through the glass merely inches from my head. I ducked instinctively, taking shelter behind the wall.
I cursed, and after playing with other devices, I sent the boat into another direction, toward the docks. Suddenly I was there, on the pier, running as fast as I could, my pursuer still hot on my heels.
I pushed through the crowds, knocking people down on my way, sometimes purposely in order to slow my follower. But nothing seemed to deter him.
Running along the beach now, my bare feet dug into the sand. He dive-tackled me from behind, and I fell face first onto the beach. I turned around, trying to face my attacker, and was met with a gun in my face.
“No, no, please!” I begged, fear in my eyes, tears dripping down my cheeks.
But he pulled the trigger.
~ :: ~
I awoke breathlessly; sweat poured down my face, sitting up suddenly. “Just a dream,” I told myself, “just a dream.
I tried to fall asleep again, but the nightmares kept getting worse and worse. After not sleeping for a week, I finally realized its value. Sleep is a gift, not to be taken for granted.
A. Page in the Stacks 