14

I think I must have dreamt it. 

It's really the only thing that makes sense, you know? Because if I didn't dream it - if it wasn't all some kind of twisted nightmare dredged from the black depths of my subconscious - then I don't think I could live with myself.

It happens, sometimes. I'm half asleep and half awake, one foot in the grave. Things will happen - I'll experience things - that I'm not entirely sure are real later on in the day. Did I really speak to her that morning, or was it just a dream? Did I really hear her singing in the shower, or was that part of the dream, too? Did I see her climbing out of the bed, or was that my imagination hard at work?

Usually it's small things. Small things that barely matter. I never ask about them. I don't feel the need to. After all, they're harmless enough. Maybe she spoke to me, maybe she didn't. Maybe she sang in the shower that morning, and maybe she didn't. Maybe I saw her, and maybe I didn't. 

Who cares, right?

But that night - that night was different. And what I woke up to was horrific.

It was horrific, but it couldn't have been me.

That officer said he couldn't believe I'd sleep through something like that. That I must have been aware. It made no sense - she was lying right beside me. 

It's the strangest thing, you know, this kind of blurred memory - the loss of definition between dream and reality. I think I saw it happen - but I thought it was a dream. I think I saw it happen... but not the way it happened. 

The neighbours saw the man come into the house. They called the police. That's how they were so quick to catch him. And I'm thankful for that, of course, because if they hadn't... 

But it's so odd, you know - the whole thing. 

Because in my dream, there was no man. 

In my dream, there was nobody else by the two of us.

And in my dream, my hands were the ones that wrapped around her--

But it couldn't have been me. 

It's ridiculous to think so. That man was in the house. That man was the one who did it. Obviously. It couldn't have been me. It couldn't have been - I was asleep. I was dreaming, or at the very least in that strange in-between state.

I haven't told anyone this, you know? It's just too... weird. And to be honest, it's terrifying. What kind of dream - what are the odds - how could any of this have happened - how could it have converged in one terrible night? 

It was all a coincidence, right? Just a coincidence. Logically, I know that. 

But that dream keeps haunting me. It just keeps... slipping back into my head, and sometimes it's so clear that I don't know... 

Anyway, the whole thing is ridiculous. Don't listen to me. I'm just... having one of those nights. It's hard to fall asleep sometimes. It's stupid, but sometimes I'm terrified - terrified of falling asleep. Like I'm surrendering to this endless black void and I might never awaken.

 Or worse - I'll wake up to something just like that, again. 

It's stupid, right? Yeah. I know. It's a dumb thing to be scared of, I guess. 

Because I did dream it.

It was all a dream.

It couldn't have been me.

💭

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