My breathing was deep and slow. I liked breathing like that, so calm, so relaxed. I could see me, sleeping in the bed. I looked peaceful, and it made me smile, the horrors of the night forgotten, at least for a few moments. I wanted to keep watching me, a thought that made me giggle. How silly was that? Me watching me. But something pulled me to the window. My palm flattened against the glass, warm from the sun. Oddly, the glass didn’t seem hard; it was as though it wasn’t there. Then suddenly I was outside the window and traveling through the air. I was a bird flying above the trees. The wind whipped my hair, and I imagined I’d known how to fly forever. Maybe I should have felt fear. What if I fell? But there was no fear, only a freedom from my physical body. I liked when I dreamed these weird dreams because where else would you get to fly? I’d had the flying dreams a few times before, but not since I’d started having the nightmares and sleepwalking that had signaled my Becoming.
