I'm in that numb state right before succumbing to sleep when the most random thoughts go through my head. I'm awed by the feeling of my muscles and limbs relaxing while my mind is on overdrive with images that may or may not be related to the day's events.

As if knowing that I endure enough traumas during my waking hours, my thoughts are usually of the banal and harmless kind.

I think of the delicious chocolate chip cookies that I finally perfected after two previous failed attempts. I think of playing fetch with Bruno and how I always win at our staring contest.

I think of swimming naked in our pool; I remember the priceless expression on Gil's face the first time he found out about my skinny dipping habit and I relive the passionate night that followed.

Sometimes the images are fleeting, one quickly replaced by another. But other times, like now, my thoughts linger on one specific memory. The night we made love in the pool plays in my mind in glorious detail and I swear I can almost transcend space and time and awaken in that moment.

I can smell the chlorine mixed with the remnant of his aftershave as he kissed me with all his might. I can feel the gentleness of his hands as they danced all over my damp skin, leaving shivers in their wake and the soothing warmth of his body as he enveloped me in a passionate embrace. I can feel the weight of his body under my touch and I will him to follow me in my dreams.

The images are slowly starting to fade way and I hold on to that one memory as long as I can.

And I think of how weird it is that you are never conscious of the moment sleep claims you. One moment you are waiting for it and the next thing you know, you're awake.

The bone chilling cold is the first thing that strikes me as odd.

I reach to my right side for Gil or a blanket- which ever comes first- but I'm stilled in my movement by the gritty and moist matter that slips through my fingers.

I tentatively open my eyes, and I wait for the sudden moment of recognition that is sure to follow as I take in the constellations in the sky above me.

But that moment doesn't come.

It's dark, I'm cold, my clothes are as soaked as the ground I lay on and I have no idea where I am. I surely would have burst into tears if my practical side hadn't already taken over.

I try to assess the situation logically. It's obviously the middle of the night and it rained although it has stopped now. The star filled sky tells me it's far away from the city so I deduct that however I got here, it wasn't by foot.

I don't seem hurt, I scan my body for cuts and bruises in the dim moonlight and, satisfied that I don't have any, I rise up to my feet, slowly.

Aside from feeling slightly light headed and groggy, I seem physically fine.

I study my surroundings but there's nothing but blackness all around. I release a breath I didn't know I was holding and I take one tentative step, then another.

My eyes glued on the ground, I walk in a straight line just as I would when processing any crime scene. I don't know what I'm looking for, but I'm hoping whatever it is will trigger my memory. I'm too confused and disoriented to feel scared and I can't shake the feeling that I'm missing something crucial.

What's the last thing I remember?

I had the day off today, I'm sure of that. I baked 3 batches of cookies before succeeding then I went jogging with Bruno after eating too many. I picked up some books at the library. I did laundry and shrunk one of Gil's shirts. I had dinner by myself, walked Bruno, went to bed and read until Gil came home.

And then I went to sleep…

And I woke up here.

None of it makes sense.

I keep walking, the moon shining its weak if comforting light in my path as I scan the dirt for any clues.

And then I sense, more than see, there's something in front of me.

I let my newly adjusted night vision roam the object several meters in front of me and I approach it, slowly.

Even in the dark, the scarlet color is unmistakable, the distorting shape that has eluded me becomes clearer as I near it; it's a car.

A red sports car, maybe a Mustang, but it's wrecked so badly it's hard to tell.

I stand still, startled by this discovery as my brain searches my memory for a red Mustang. It's not my car I know that much; I'm fairly sure nobody I know owns such a car. It can't possibly have anything to do with my situation. Even though I'm sure I look like shit run over twice, there's no way anybody would have gotten out of that car unharmed.

And that thought has me running forward. If anybody is trapped inside that car they're definitely in worse shape that I am.

I rush to the driver's side, calling out in a raspy voice that I barely recognize as my own. "Is anybody in there?" I stand still, waiting for something, anything to break the eerie silence.

I peer as best I can through the shattered window, looking for signs of life but I can't discern anything in the ruined interior. I move to the passenger side and call out again but this time it's terror I hear coming from my lips.

I fall to the ground, my back hitting hard against the red metal and my tears flow freely.

My chest tightens under the weight of my sobs and I let it all out as I pound the ground with my fists.

"Where the fuck am I?" I shout to the blackness.

My heart is beating increasingly louder in my ears and my breathing is quickening at an alarming speed and I know I'm on the verge of an anxiety attack, when I hear it.

"Sara."

It's faint but I definitely hear it.

"Sara."

There it is again.

I press my face to the passenger's window. "Don't move! I'm going to get you out." My mind is racing, whoever is in there knows me and I'm terrified at what I'll find. I'm trying to get the door to budge when I feel something brushing my leg.

It's a hand.

It's a bloody hand reaching from under the car.

"Oh my God!"

Everything happens so fast. I'm on my knees, holding on to that hand. I find a weak pulse. I speak words of comfort. I scream for help. I get as close to the ground as I can and I tell the person to keep talking to me. "Who are you?" I ask over and over.

And finally I see her.

Her lips are moving but I can barely hear what she's saying as I recognize the eyes looking back at me.

I'm looking at myself, she's me, I'm her. She squeezes my hand and pulls me closer. I want to look away but I can't. "I'm dead," I whisper and she shakes her head and smiles.

She's talking again and she keeps repeating the same words over and over and I feel my world go blank.

Isn't it weird how you're never aware of the moment you lose consciousness? One moment you're feeling yourself go and the next thing you know, you're awake.

I wake up drenched in sweat.

I sit up and experience the biggest head rush known to mankind but I smile as I quickly realize I'm in my own bed.

"It was just a dream," I say to Bruno lying at my feet. He gives me an annoyed grunt and a resounding yawn before going back to sleep.

Cuddling up to Gil despite the unbearable heat, I place light kisses on his back, careful not to disturb him. The vivid images I just dreamed keep playing in my mind and I can't shake the gnawing feeling that I've just experienced something more than a simple dream.

The last time a dream left me so shaken up, I was a kid and I dreamed of bloody knives and puddles of blood. When my dad died shortly after, I recognized the blood patterns from my nightmare.

I banish that image from my mind and I concentrate on Gil's rhythmic breathing. Holding him tight, I reluctantly let sleep claim me for the second time that night. The last image I see before falling in a dreamless slumber is my doppelganger's lips moving from under the car

The prophetic quality of the words she spoke is lost on me then but they'll be a comfort when the inevitable happens.

And I'll repeat them over and over: "You will live."