I lay on the couch with the horribly uncomfortable pillow beneath my head.

“I don’t why my brain does what is does, but the nightmares are starting to get to me. If I bite my tongue earlier in the day, I dream of my mouth getting destroyed by acid. If I forget something earlier in the week, I dream of being left behind in a crowded area, getting lost, and then… gulp… killed.”

“And how do you feel about these dreams exactly? More than ‘get at’ you.”

Against my closed eyes, afterimages of the dreams flit across my memory. “They’re tearing me apart, mentally. I’m not sure what’s real anymore.” I feel something enclose my right ankle and give a sharp tug.

“And now,” he asks. “How do you feel now?”

The tugging has increased to a steady pull, and I’m aware of similar sensations on my arms and legs. I open my eyes and glance around. Fear grips my gut as I don’t see an office anymore. I see sky. I smell horses.

“And now,” he yells. “HOW do you FEEL!?”

A whip crack, a scream.

Another damned nightmare.