I've been having those dreams again. The ones where I'm falling through cacophonous spaces, lashed by brutal dark winds roaring off of tumultuous black seas that I never seem to reach in my headlong plummet through space.
I awake screaming.
For three days now I've woken up screaming.
I'm not sure if I'll scream tomorrow. Mostly because I don't know if I'm going to wake up again. The doctors mean well, at least some of them, most of the time. But I'm not sure that I can trust Dr. Van der Heyl. I find his squinty, piggish eyes disturbing. And I didn't start having the nightmares again until after he began taking an interest in my case. I wish that Wilbur was here. He'd know what to do. He always does.
