Prologue Start.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Stop panicking. It was just a nightmare, a flashback caused by trauma. I will be fine. Everything is normal. I am still in my bed. He's gone.
When I was a young child, I used to dream about the monsters my daddy would tell me about, implanting nightmarish images of hideous monsters with sharp teeth and claws ready to dine on my heart. I would never believe him, of course, dismissing his claims as imaginary.
And here I am now, twenty-one and single, still seeing the monsters in my sleep.
Growing up has nothing to do with seriousness, or maturity. No. When you grow up, you have reached the point where you stop dismissing spooky ghosts and spirits ready to consume you if you so much as blink.
Growing up is when you realize that the monsters are completely, wholly real, but in a different shape.
I considered myself an adult.
Prologue End.
