Blythe Tatum expected her freshman year at university to be nerve-wracking, though nothing out of the ordinary. The beginning of her school year starts off as averagely as possible, though Blythe soon finds herself caught up in an unexpected and ine...
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"Blythe."
Strong hands grip my shoulders and shake my body roughly. I struggle against the restraint, fighting to be set free. I flail my arms and kick my legs, yet nothing seems to ward off my assailant. I'm being held against my will, and I'm left terrified.
"Blythe! Wake up!"
I jolt up in bed so fast someone squeals. It takes a minute for me to realize I wasn't the one to make the sound.
I blink to adjust my sight to the darkness surrounding me as my heart beats out of my chest. I shiver, suddenly realizing that I am soaked with sweat.
"Kehlani?" I question when I notice my roommate sitting on the edge of my bed, staring down at me as if I've lost my mind. "What's going on?"
"You were screaming," Kehlani tells me, "in your sleep. I was trying to wake you up."
"I was?" I feel too disoriented to hold a conversation. I rest my head in my hands, inhaling a deep breath as I try to slow my heart rate.
"I think you were having a nightmare," Kehlani says gently. "You kept saying please. You were thrashing everywhere. I had to hold you down so you wouldn't fall out of bed."
With Kehlani's words, the memories that have been haunting me in the form of hallucinations for the past few weeks suddenly come rushing back to me. The dark room. The rough weight atop my body. The cold, hard ground. The hands around my neck. The struggle. The air being forced from my lungs. The dark, empty blackness that swallows me whole.
I am terrified, and it has everything to do with my peculiar hallucinations. I know about recurring dreams, though I've never quite heard of anything like the delusions I've been experiencing. The visions are too vivid—too real—to be a nightmare merely created by my imagination. Yet I've never experienced an event in my lifetime even similar to the hallucination for it to be a memory of mine.
"Are you okay?" Kehlani asks, resting a hand on my shoulder comfortingly. Her touch seems to be the only thing grounding me to reality at the moment.
"I'm fine," I murmur absentmindedly. "I'm sorry I woke you up. You should go back to sleep."
"Are you sure, Blythe? I don't mind staying up with you."
"I'm sure. Thanks, though. It was just a bad dream."
Except it wasn't. Suddenly, I'm certain that this vision I've been experiencing isn't a dream at all. I can't explain it, and it doesn't make sense even to me—but I know it really happened.
Just not to me.
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