With a gasp he lunged out of what was a tormented slumber. The dark fogs of his mind slowly retreated into his subconscious and in a few seconds time, whatever nightmare gripped him had passed.

He returned to his pillow and glanced toward the clock beside his bed. The red lights told him it was 12:01.

He watched the clock change a number for the 63rd time to 1:04. Terror gripped his mind. The dark fogs that had vanished before were back again with a vengeance. This was no dream. The dream was unclear, muddled and erratic. Real life is clear, detailed and structured.

Thoughts floated in and out his head that were not his own. It was not his imagination or any sort of memory. It was a definite intrusion into his mind.

He was right about the fact there was mental intrusions going on but was off when he thought he was the victim. He thought someone was transmitting a sandwich recipe into his head when in reality, his brother was in the next room thinking about a midnight snack.