It didn’t come softly like a whisper. It announced itself with a startling bang meant to disarm and chase away all signs of rationale and sensibility, replacing each with an unrelenting tremble at the very core of who I was.

I now understood that nightmares existed solely to soften the blow. A baby step to the big show so that when it was on my doorstep, it wouldn’t create such a bounding bloat of fear that my heart would forget its purpose.

Hands trembled. Tears puddled. Heart pounded in a soup of disbelief and terror. But it was the feet that betrayed me most of all. Planted firmly in place, concreted to their forever spot. The spot where I would cease to exist, where I would morph into the very thing that tore a streak of heat through my gut.

And there would be no mercy.

The tearing. The cutting. The ripping.

Each flick and punch delivered so solidly I gasped for air and closed my eyes. In the darkness, pain and panic unified and foretold of the true torture to come. I fought hard to find comfort in my memories for as long as I could. I thought of sunlight dancing on water, of snow covered park benches, and of the rich colors of fall. I thought of smiling faces, of warm hugs, and of soft kisses.

Knowing I would never recognize the value of love anymore was the cruelest blow of them all. The weight of sorrow from the realization was too much to bear and my memories flickered. As the darkness oozed into the last vestige of who I was, I was almost grateful.