I was running. Running away from what seemed to be my doom. A deep black darkness ran behind me, hoping to catch up with me and engulf me, to consume me, to make me disappear. I strove on in my running. My legs accelerated but it seemed to be a failed effort. The darkness moved closer. The area was deserted, a vast plain of heat and unforgiving, barren land. I was incapable of making my escape or even conceal myself from this impending doom. I concluded that I was done for. For what reason should I make endeavours to run away from this antagonist, this inescapable, inevitable evil while it effortlessly moves and engulfs the present scene? To think being totally immersed in the peach black darkness. I stopped, willing to succumb to what was coming for me, then it disappears.
I wake up with cold sweats trickling down my face and onto my neck and bare shoulders. The room was filled with darkness. The window was able to give off a dark blue light that was able to only illuminate the white bedsheets, at least to the extent that I was able to deduce it’s states. The bedsheets were full of creases and unnatural wrinkles. The edges of the bed sheet were untucked and flowed alongside the occasional gusts of the barely cool wind. There were the momentary blasts of the grasshoppers’ usual noises, forcing the fear of sleeping into me. My eyes were heavy, my right arm propped my torso upwards while my left hand grasped my head, hoping that an understanding may come up as I try to understand the event that had just occurred.