Yassen carries on his with his menial tasks, paying no attention to me. My eyes weigh heavily and I struggle to give in to the temptations of sleep. But soon enough, I run out of energy to do that too.
It's bad enough having nightmares plague your sleep and interrupt your reality. What's worse is when you can't tell the difference. You can't tell if you're sleeping and having a nightmare or if the reality you're living is a nightmare.
You really can't blame me for what happened. In my dream- rather nightmare- I was being chased by someone. I don't know who and it do matter. If they had caught me things would not be pretty. As I was running for my life I spotted a glinting blade laying on a shelf, what would you expect to to do but attack my pursuer?
I'm torn from the nightmares by a loud exclamation of pain and I know it wasn't me. My eyes quickly adjust to the light and I nearly vomit at the site. Somehow, in my sleeping panic, I grabbed a very real, very sharp knife and attacked my assailant with it. Only my supposed assailant wasn't really a threat, not immediately at least. If he wants to kill me he's missed a dozen easy opportunities. But now, with a gaping cut on his right arm, I feel death is imminent.