Help
It always starts with the nightmares. It comes closer to me every time I try to fall asleep. Visions of a little girl, reaching out, calling for help fill my mind as soon as my eyes close. She's telling me to come back, help her, save her as the darkness pulls her away. There, in my head, I wonder
what
I was trying to save her from.
She's screaming, and the details of my dream gets worse when I turn back. Her hands are bloody, her voice shaking with fear as she still continues to call out. Behind her, there were three dead bodies. One of a ten-year-old, another one was a woman, and the third was a man. They must've been her family.
Other than that, I would look at myself when I fall into the dream. And every single time,
I was still a child.
