She saw his face so clearly. His blue eyes, his dark skin, his messy brown hair. She saw him so clearly. His passionate eyes, his loving hands, his sweet words, his beautiful heart.

She woke up screaming again with her fingers like claws dug into her covers. Before she fully awakened, she began snarling, growling even as she unintentionally scratched a hole in her sheets. Suddenly sitting straight up, she found her eyes wet and her lungs empty. Usually this was the part where she snapped out of it, but not tonight. It was no longer just her lungs that were empty. She felt nothing anymore but anger; most of which was derived from the fact that she could do nothing. She had finally become what everyone saw her as: pityful, weak, nothing.

This man in her dreams-this hope-was a phone call away. How in the world could he give a damn about her. How could he, this beautiful person, love something like her. She tried to avoid him in her thoughts, but her dreams murdered her every single night.