There was only pressure and the sensation of being restrained by an unidentified force. My breath became shallow and my limbs refused to respond. I wasn't screaming. The cruelest thing of it has always been that I never resist.
Like a blunt object through glass, the sound penetrated the space. In a single quick motion, it crashed into my ears and wrenched me from sleep. My skin was slippery with sweat, as though I had raced miles rather than lay motionless, and I jerked upright, the blankets tangled over my legs. My throat felt scraped and dry that swallowing hurt, and for a second I couldn't tell if the noise was still part of the dream.
After three years, it had become less frequent and duller, but they never really went away. I breathed through my mouth while I sat there. My nig
