She stood in a tiny room with icy cold water pouring down her body as she screamed in an abnormally high pitch. She saw herself beating desperately at the window with a fire extinguisher. As the water hit the image of Vaughn faded into darkness and was replaced by that of a phantom. Its featureless face slowly contemplated her before lashing out to sink it's jaws into her bicep.
She startled awake, heart racing, abdominal muscles painfully tight, and teeth chattering. She reached over and wrapped the big fluffy comforter tightly around herself. She glanced over at the bedside clock. 2:45. It was officially the 12th. The dream occurred much less frequently but would always come back in May. Sometimes on the day, sometimes before, sometimes after, but always at least once. It was constant, always the same every time. Barnett had convinced Sydney to tell her about it once. Her analysis was that it was due underlying feelings of guilt, and that the phantom represented how her past kept coming back to haunt her.
'I could have told you that!' Sydney thought to herself. Needless to say that was the last time she ever went to a session. The shivering subsided, but a deep penetrating cold remained. A cold that even the warmest of blankets could not reach. 'The cold of death' she once said in her mind, and was immediately sickened by the description. Death appeared so often in her life. Why should she not begin to feel it?
She whipped away a tear, marveling at no matter how no matter much she moved on the dream and the cold always came back. The emotions it stirred up within her would never go away. They were still there as strong as ever...........even after four years.