It happened again last night. I awoke with my pillow wet from sweat and tears; gasping for breath as my crumbling teeth gradually disintegrate and disappear down my throat. So real that in my hazy semi-awake state I feel my mouth checking to see whether me teeth are still there. Relief; for now. But why?

The owl's head turned clockwise

It hooted sharply

As though it was for warning

I retreated slowly

One foot behind the other

But my flowy red dress

Caught on the branch

That twisting devilish branch

It tore

And tore

I ran

Blood dripping from my eyes

In place of tears

Squeezed shut

It happens every night, I take out my dream journal place it beneath my pillows as I lay my head and try to fall asleep. I have powers you see. I can control my dreams, I remember the story my dreams tell me, though it is I who write them. I can tell when I am dreaming also, do you want to know my secret? Its simple, I wake up, write down my dream, read it at night and put it under my pillow. Every night I sleep with my dreams and write my own story.

My panting chest ached under the pounding of my heart. The lactic acid burning holes in my quads as I sprinted from the black figures hastily approaching me. I knew I was going to die. The black figures were going to kill me, but I hadn't done anything wrong. This whole scenario was a fallacy, and suddenly I knew I was asleep. I had entered into a place between sleep and consciousness but was terrified, still. I urgently but calmly told myself to wake. My eyelids slowly opening to reveal my bent arm pressing into the pillow next to my head. I could feel my heavy body, but all of my limbs were numb. This is what my dead body will feel like.

I had entered back into a mindful state but my body was still in delusion. I tried to scream for help but audible noise and mandible movement was a no-go. Am I actually dead?

My mind was playing tricks on me. Some sort of undiagnosed, undiscovered mental illness. How was I this detached from reality, my mind trapped in a living, breathing corpse. Willing my arm to move and my voice to sound, I realized I had left a lucid dream into a nightmarish reality, drowning my senses in a panic that only true wakeful reality can evoke. Just as I had plundered into the darkest depths of loneliness and despair, I came back. My arm moved and I lifted my head experiencing a freedom that triumphed all freedoms ever experienced in prior dreams.

To this day I have no idea what happened, but will never forget the terror of that one lucid dream.

It happened on a normal Tuesday night. I was in a dark musky place when suddenly everything was illuminated by a glowing red light.

Dark silhouettes advanced on me, teeth bared ferociously. I reached for something that wasn't there, and woke up clutching my pillow pet. It was so creepy that I was sweating.