In reality it’s been years, but the dreams keep coming, leaving the event forever fresh in my mind. It happens over and over. Some nights I make it through without reliving that night. Sometimes I go a few weeks without disturbance. When that happens, the dread builds in my chest because I know the dream can’t be far from manifesting again. I was thirteen when it happened for real, the night I almost died. I’ve never told a living soul. The dream always replays events as I remember them happening, so I’ll tell the dream. It feels safer, more separate. In the dream, my parents have gone out for a date night. We live in a quiet, gated community. My parents are overprotective and don’t like to leave me alone at night, but I assure them I’ll be fine. I want to be treated like a teenager for once, not a child. With some reluctance, they relent to my wishes. I watch all the channels I’m not allowed to watch on the television and take a few sips of wine from a bottle in the cellar.
