Fiction
Snappedby Sara Garland
She awoke with a jolt, reaching for the red journal her therapist had encouraged her to keep. As she opened it, she reached for a pen, filling in the date and the context. The column of entries was growing longer every day—or, more specifically, each night at erratic hours.
October 15, 2:14 a.m.—Same dream as last night. I can’t remember all the details, but it’s the same chair, same outcome. Very real. More so each time. It’s been coming back to me throughout the daytime lately, too.
The dream was a hazy cross between a vision and a voice. She knew that much.
Jessica hadn’t always had the kinds of dreams that frightened her to the point of seeking psychological consultation. She’d never even had recurring dreams. She had a few of the classics—falling, f
