I run. I run faster and harder than I’ve ever run before. It’s after me again, chasing me, stalking me, hunting me. The fear is familiar. I’ve been here before. I don’t know what it is, but I know that if it catches me…if it catches me….. The ground beneath me engulfs my feet, swallowing them up. Each step requiring a supreme effort, I am no longer running. I can feel it closing in. The hairs on my arms stand up as I feel its hungry breath, moist on the back of my neck. I dare not look, waiting to be consumed.

I awaken in bed. My heart is pounding in my ears. Relief slowly replaces the lingering terror from the chase that I’ve dreamt of, so many nights before. I watch the ceiling fan spin round and round. With each spin, I can feel my heart rate slow, my nerves calm. I start to relax. I get up to use the bathroom. I flip the light switch on, but it remains dark. I glance at the clock, but the numbers melt and morph, an alien language. I realize I’m still asleep.

As I pedal my legs, I rise higher and higher into the sky. How I love this feeling, the cool breeze in my face, whipping my hair around wildly. I imagine I must look silly, like I’m riding an invisible bicycle, but it’s worth it. I mean really, who else even knows how to fly like this? Suddenly, I start to drop. I frantically pedal my legs, but I’ve forgotten how to fly. I crash into the ground with a thud. I desperately try jumping and pedaling, willing myself to levitate again, but I remain earthbound, defeated.

I hug my mother. The embrace feels like a warm mug of hot chocolate on Christmas day. I tell her how much I miss her, how I wish she would come back. “I’m sorry honey, only the force can do that,” she replies. She turns to smoke in my arms. An ivory white skeletal hand grips my wrist, unrelenting. “LOOK AT ME!” shrieks my grandmother. I turn to my father, pleading with my eyes for help. “Just wake up,” he says, and I wake up.

I run…