Cold murderous screams tore open the deathly midnight silence. Sweat dampened my clothing, my hair, the bed-set that laid on, soul restless as the night itself. The deafening shrieks around me, ones that I alone could hear, aroused me from my light daze, sleep having never been an option for me. With the cold reality that even a moments peace that night was most likely going to prove impossible, the best I could do was lie still and tense, dull gaze fixed on my tiled ceiling above, as I waited for the dawn sun to emerge from behind the horizon.
Gentle taps on the darkened and seemingly frozen window attracted my attention to the now beating rain, more or less the physical representation of what my mind was on the inside. Dull, dreary, cynical, too tired to be aware of events taking place all around as it continued ton push on, still determined to survive the night. Although the screams continued to echo into the cold depths of the wet night, slowly they became fainter, growing less persistent as time struggled forward and the thunderous storm raged into the dark. When weariness finally took its icy hold on me, what now seemed like intangible whispers of the used-to-be screams fully dissipating, in the early depths of the morning, I found myself unable to withhold from slipping into the abyss of unconsciousness. My being fell from it's unstable hold on reality into the darkest pits of my mind, a state in which the enigmatic beasts of my greatest nightmares were welcome to torture me.
