I'm in the middle of a book right now that I'm really enjoying. It's not a thriller exactly, but it is suspenseful. The main character has a bit of ESP - kinda like the chick on Medium on NBC - and has a way of 'seeing' things. Her best friend was murdered in a small town in South Carolina when she was 8 and now, at 26, this girl is back and wants to find the killer.
So then last night I read until I fell asleep, as is my usual routine. I don't know if it was something about the book or what, but I woke this morning at 5:30 to my husband saying "it's ok! I'm right here! It's ok!" and I was whimpering. I very rarely ever wake up like that, but when I do, it scares the pee out of me. I had been having a nightmare of sorts. In my dream, I walked into my daughters room. She was in our living room with one of my friends who had come to visit. It was early in the morning and the sun was just starting to shine - beautiful. I thought it odd that her window was wide open. We normally have screens on our windows, but where was her screen? And what was that box doing under her window? It was wet with dew. Strange. I picked it up and started to walk out of her room, but between me and the door, through the slats of her baby bed, a man was crouched on the floor. He reminded me of the Donnie Wahlberg in "The Sixth Sense", but scarier - if that's possible. I yelled for my friend to get my daugther and get out. He grabbed me and began to drag me back toward the window. Rachel!! I've got to get to Rachel!! I began screaming, or trying to, at the man. My voice caught in my throat and nothing would come out. I couldn't yell. I couldn't scream. I couldn't speak. Run!! RUN!! Get Rachel out of here!!! It was all in my head, but nothing was coming out of my mouth.
And that's when I woke to my husband's consoling. Peace rushed over me to know it was all a dream - a nightmare.