Darkness. That was all I could see, like a pitch black blanket had been draped over my face in an attempt to shield me from a view too terrible to behold. But it didn't stop the cold seeping in, grazing over my skin tenderly, taunting me for being so weak and pathetic. Or maybe that was the voices . . . it was impossible to make out what they were saying. Not only were they mumbling and whispering, but I was sure they were speaking in a different language. Whatever it was sent shivers down my spine.

I tried to figure out where I was, but it was useless. I reached out in front of me, and to both sides, but my hands didn't make contact with anything. Eventually, I decided to lower myself to the ground, running my hands out in front of me cautiously. Without warning, my fingertips ran over a craggy edge, cutting through my skin like a hot knife through butter. I gasped, pulling my hand back hurriedly.

One of the voices suddenly grew louder, laughing in my ear. Before I realised what was happening, a whimper slipped my lips pathetically, and the laughter took on a cold, cruel edge. "Baby Ace," it taunted, barely audible over the pounding of my heart. "Why are you so weak? Why can you not be more like your father?"

The familiar taunt made my blood run cold, and for a moment, I wondered if I was now living my own version of hell in my sleep too. Wasn't it enough that I spent all day every day being scolded by my own mother for being too weak?

But the voice didn't belong to my mother. It was male, for one thing, and it held a certain threat of power that my mother could never pull off. As scared of my mother as I was, this man's voice terrified me to my core. My knees were weak, and my hands shook uncontrollably at my sides.

Realising the effect he had on me, the man cackled, louder this time until his voice rattled inside my head and caused another, more panicked whimper to escape my mouth. "Is this all they have?" the man sneered nastily. "The best and the brightest . . . and then you. What hope can they possibly have?"

Wake up, I chimed to myself, clenching my fists at my sides and closing my eyes tightly as I gulped back my fear. It's only a dream, you can wake up!

"You can do nothing to stop me," the man was still saying, anger now getting the better of him.

My body shook and my eyebrows tightened. It's just a dream, Acacia. Wake UP!

"You will fall, and there is nothing you can do about it," he snarled, and the air grew heavy around me. Suddenly, I couldn't breathe.

WAKE UP! I yelled internally.

"ACACIA!"

I bolted upright in my bed, gasping for breath with wide eyes and a hammering heart. As usual, my bedroom lay in darkness. My sheets were tangled around my legs after my fitful night's sleep, and a fine layer of sweat trailed over my skin. Behind me, my pillow lay in at a strange angle, stained with fresh tears.

"ACACIA, ARE YOU UP THERE!" my mother's yell came.

I sighed heavily, my hands shaking my sides. "Yes, Mum! Is everything okay?"

I heard her stumble on the stairs, and automatically flinched toward the door to help. But I held myself back, frowning into the darkness as she giggled at herself. "OF COURSE IT IS, SILLY GIRL!" she shouted back, still giggling. "WHY WOULDN'T IT BE?"

I rolled my eyes. "Just checking, Mum."

"DON'T TAKE THAT PATRONISING TONE WITH ME, YOUNG LADY! GO TO SLEEP!"

I was asleep, I thought to myself irritably. Until you shouted.

But it dawned on me that it might have been a good thing that Mum had woke me up. If she hadn't, I might have still been in that horrible nightmare. The more I thought about it, the more frightening it seemed to get. What on Earth could have possessed me to make something so . . . creepy, even in my dreams?

I shook the thought away. Everything was the way it always was. I had been left home alone all night then woken to the sound of my drunk mother staggering home at some ungodly hour in the morning.

There was no need to get worked up over a dream . . . was there?