The Dreamers (Editing)
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- Parts 7
I couldn't stop trembling even more now. I calmed down a little more and checked my arm again. I was correct, I wasn't hallucinating. On my shoulder was a tattoo. It was a character of some sort-- in a different language. It looked like it was Chinese mixed with Islamic calligraphy. The skin around my arm was red and irritated. The symbol stuck out like a vein. I hyperventilated. I thought I was going to have a panic attack. I had to sit there, on my bed, and command myself to calm down. "I'm dreaming. I'm dreaming. This isn't real," I whispered. I checked the mirror again and searched all over my body to see if I had any other markings, but so far this was the only one.
I shut my eyes, trying to force myself to wake up, but this was real. And for the first time, out of all the panicking, my vision went black.
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