There is someone in my dreams.
They talk to me and tell me things,
But, none of it makes any sense.

A soft scratching sound at the back of my skull.
Soft and continuous,
Like stone on stone.

They are trying to dig their way out.
This is frightening me!
Please tell them to stop!

I cannot stop my hands from shaking,
From sweating,
From grasping and pulling each finger with nervousness.

I close my eyes and...
There! There they are,
Their eyes, just eyes, staring back.

They can see me and hear me,
And taunt me.
Why do they taunt me?

A copper taste in my mouth,
Makes me get sick on the floor,
As the doctor runs to call for help.

GRAHAM MURPHY