Nightmare Encounter

Here's the passage rewritten in present tense: I jolt awake. Yet again, I find myself breathing hard–my bed sheets a tangled mess around my legs. With one shaky hand I wipe off the sweat from my hair, still beads of wetness make their way between my breast and back. I groan, fighting to take the sheets off me. These have been my sleepless nights for the past three weeks. I fall asleep while reading or on my computer trying to finish work–and when I wake up I'm a mess. There's always that feeling of unease, like someone is watching me from just outside my window. The most annoying part is that I can't remember what I keep dreaming that's causing me to sweat and feel this way. Just as my eyes open, my dream– or rather nightmare, disappears like it never happened, except I know that's the only explanation. The October breeze feels good on my face. Finally, the fall colors are here. It's my favorite time of the year. I love the leaves changing, the cool breeze, wearing long comfortable coats and boots. Any excuse I can get to wear maroon, browns, and dark greens, I'd take it without question. Halloween is a few days away, and I have not yet had the chance to decorate my house. I'm sure grandma still has her old Halloween decor somewhere in the garage, but I feel as if I should buy something new that represents me. I know that would have somehow made her happy. Grandma Maggie died about two and a half months ago, leaving me her house, which according to her has been passed down from one family member to another since 1902. Grandma once told me that all of my ancestors loved Halloween time. According to her, each generation bought a Halloween decor that was passed down in the family and used every year. The town consists of spooky decor; carved pumpkins, ghosts, witches, skulls, and nearly every body part you can think of. The vibes are always here in Knightdale. It's a small town, rural compared to other towns, consisting of about eight-thousand people roughly, but everyone here is always in the spirit. The bell on top of the door of Bill's Holiday shops rings as I enter the small space surrounded by so many people. "Welcome in, Gina!" Bill yells from across the room. I wave up to him, smiling but staying quiet, not really wanting to scream around so many voices talking at the same time. For how small the store is, there's always a good selection of items. Anything from modern Halloween decor to more antics. My eyes land on a one-foot Grim Reaper figurine. Without a second thought, I push my way over to the shelf, ignoring Rose's curses. The statue seems old and worn in some places if the discoloration of paint is anything to go by. There's something different about this reaper though; his face is covered by a skeleton mask, covering everything but his eyes. Ever so blue, I feel a shiver overcome me. He stands straight– his long cloak fanning out but exposing a severed head at his feet–his scythe positioned next to the head. Without a second thought, I grab the piece, ignoring that the price is a good three hundred dollars. After nearly an hour, I'm finally home and excited to decorate. With a good Spotify spooky station and a whole cup of hot chocolate at the ready, I begin to unbox all thirteen boxes of decor. Five hours later, I now have a spooky outdoors and an even spookier indoors. I place my new addition just outside my door, in hopes that somehow the Grim Reaper will chase away my night terrors.