Bad Dreams

I haven’t slept in days. The walls wobble around me like Jell-O until I touch them and they become solid, but then the floor buckles underneath me. Still it’s better than sleeping.

Because when I sleep, I dream, and I dream of him.

He chases me, laughs at me, plays with me like a cat plays with a mouse. I dare not even close my eyes anymore. His face is there. He grins that toothy grin that haunts me in the waking world.

I see people and shapes that are not there. I wonder if I’m asleep. Maybe he’s gone.

Maybe.