The tang of infection and death hang in the air, suffocating you further. Fear grips your heart in an icy clench, and fresh waves of pain tear throughout your weak muscles. Your back arches off the ground inscintively, and a groan pushes past your lips. Suddenly, a man stands before, insane eyes paralyzing you to the core. In his hands an axe rests, dry blood flaking from the rusty metal. He lifts the weapon up, cackling madly, and brings it down to your throat...

You shoot up in bed, scream!ng your already dry throat hoars.e. A sheen slick of sweat covers your body, the cold liquid contrasting greatly to your burning muscles. Air rushes through your lungs in ragged gasps, slowing to quiet sobs racking your body. A long while later, you calm down enough so that it doesn't hurt to breath. You take a minute to think over what just happened. Realization settles in your chest like a heavy stone. It was that nightmare again. It's been happening every night for the last 10 years, each time you close your eyes. Your thoughts are constantly haunted by death, insanity, and maniacal laughter. It's a miracle that you're still sane enough to function. You tried to tell somebody, but no one would listen to the babblings of an emotional 16 year old. Your parents are always "too tired" or "too busy" to deal with your silly dreams. Not even the counselors at school believe that you having such thoughts is normal. If only they knew.

You pick up the phone on your bedside table and check the time. Three thirty am. You let out a sigh, setting down the device. Might as well scrounge up what remnants of sleep you can. You lay back down, sinking into the damp (due to furiously sweating) covers. Blissfully, due to you already having the evil nightmare, the rest of your sleep is dreamless. END OF PART ONE-
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