My eyes slowly open, expecting the dark silhouette of the creature above me, but only the ceiling stares back. Light is filing in through my window, making shadows dance around on the fresh paint as the trees catch in the wind.
I look down at my birthmark. Strangely, it’s not aching, and in fact it’s not even tender to the touch. There was a lot more to the dream this time, but I assumed the more intense the dream was, the more my birthmark would hurt. That’s been the trend so far. Why is it different now?
I close my eyes and think of everything that occurred in the dream. The beginning was the same as always, but the strange creature is new, like the singing that filled my head.
Singing. Not the awful whispering I’m used to, but sweet, pure voices which not only calmed me, but the bats
