Nightmares

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Astrid's P.O.V

I awoke to the sound of my own voice as I called out in my sleep. I was shouting something incoherent. Not again. I had trouble with nightmares, since I was a kid. My parents had taken me to a specialist sleep therapist but it had done me little good. I felt like I was burning up and the sheets clung to me. I felt trapped and hurriedly threw them off and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. It was dark in my room and I rubbed my eyes whilst reassuring myself that I wasn't in any danger. When my breathing had slowed to a normal rate, I stood and felt my way over to the light. I began to recount the dream in my mind as I got a cold glass of water from the sink in the corner.

I was only a child... I was tightly strapped to a table and a looming figure in green goggles approached me with several needles of unnaturally bright chemicals. He took some of my blood and then he injected me with the chemicals and it felt like he'd put acid in to my veins. Then I went into some kind of state of anaesthesia or semi-consciousness. When I came around I was trapped in a room with blank white walls and cold lino flooring. One wall had a large glass window in it and the several imposing figures observed me and took notes. I was restrained by my ankles and wrists and after what seemed like forever the man came into the room with more needles.

When he came close to me slumped against the wall I somehow found the strength to violently resist. There was a power struggle culminating in me biting down on his hand. The syringe clattered to the floor and smashed. He cursed and after wrenching his injured hand free, struck me hard across the face with the other. The pain was intense and the fear of the impending injections was too much to bear. When he fought against me and finally managed to stick me with a needle I became even more enraged and terrified. Something very strange then happened; there was a kind of crackling static to the air and his whole body jerked and convulsed before my wide, panic-stricken eyes. It was as if a bolt of lightning had struck him and he suddenly fell, motionless, to the floor.
My restraints were somehow damaged by this inexplicable event and I escaped them. Without hesitation, I bolted straight for the door. I tore down the cold stone corridors and bleak hallways contrasted with harsh fluorescent lighting. I don't know how I knew which way was out but I made it to an fire escape door and kept running outside into the snow. I had bare feet but I kept going; driven by adrenaline and fear. I ran until the freezing cold made my feet burn and my muscles cramp. I shuddered as the snow began to whip about in a frenzy and surround me. I would disappear into the snowstorm, the blizzard absorbing me and wake up with a jolt.

Then my eyes snapped open, I sat bolt upright and screamed. I don't know why but I always did. I was awake

If I was at home with my parents I would've gone down to the kitchen and to get a glass of milk. Then I'd sit in the kitchen all night with Logan our beautiful German shepherd, terrified of going back to sleep. My parents got used to it after about a year; when I was about seven or eight and it first started, they were terrified. They took me to see a doctor but he said there was nothing wrong with me physically, mentally...I could tell he wasn't so sure but he said I was fine all the same.

My parents learned to live around it as I did. Logan was my best friend, aside from Amy of course, and I wished so much that I could go down to the kitchen now, and find him there to comfort me. But Logan was at home. I was alone and now I was all worked up and freaked out. My room was so plain and boring; all grey. This was suddenly a lot scarier.

I needed to get out.

Frantically I threw on some clothes and de-fluffed my hair. Taking my phone I went out for a walk. There were people working all the time on the helicarrier so that the ship would stay in the air but there were still fewer people around at night. The corridors were dimly light by overhead lights at regular intervals, this was mildly scary too. It all reminded me of when I was running through the building in my dream. Eventually I came to an open lounge area. There were a couple of agents in the corner talking. I sat down and took out my phone. I desperately wanted to talk to someone, anyone. But if I rang any of my contacts it would be embarrassing and I knew i'd regret it. I wondered how my parents were doing. When I had this nightmare in the past, at home, I'd get up and go downstairs seeking comfort from my dog. It was all so childish but I was genuinely scared by it. The dreams sometimes felt so real, perhaps even like lost memories and occasionally I wondered... Could they be? How could that be possible? I didn't remember much of my early childhood but that wasn't so unusual.

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