This was the third time this week that Emma had woken up having a nightmare. She couldn't always remember much of it, but she definitely knew what it was about. PTSD was a real thing, but no matter how many times her friend, Caroline, tried to encourage her to seek counseling for it, she just couldn't. She couldn’t relive the story over and over sitting on some couch in some nondescript office. It was bad enough that it had taken up residence in her head, but uttering the words that were bathed in darkness and fear was just too much for her.

The reality of what had happened just a few months ago was still so shocking to her that she couldn't think about it much during the day. She was able to push the feelings and memories aside during her waking hours, but in her dreams they took center stage. She relived the scenario over and over and over again. She often became trapped in her dream, and she was so thankful when her brain would wake her up in a panic because it meant she could escape the terror.

As she did most nights, she got out of the bed, slipped on her robe and walked out onto the small deck on the back of the cottage. It faced the beach, and the sound of the ocean waves soothed her. Not enough, but a little. Each wave gave her a millisecond break, just enough to catch her breath before the memories would catch up with her yet again.

She loved the smell of the the salty sea air, and the fine mist that would come off the ocean during different parts of the day woke her up enough so that she didn't fall back asleep and start the dream all over again. Most nights, she might have gotten three hours of sleep, and it was starting to wear on her.

But what could she do? Life had happened. There was nothing that was going to take away the memories of that fateful night. And her punishment for making that decision was going to haunt her until the day she died. If it didn't haunt her while she was awake, it hunted her in her dreams. She felt as if those memories were chasing her night after night.

For a while, she could confide in Steve. He understood. He tried to console her, tell her that she did the right thing. But she didn't do the right thing in her mind. Even though she was cleared of any wrong doing, she could never go back to her job as a police officer. She saw everything differently, and she hadn’t even been on duty that night.

Most of her career, she had known that being an officer didn't really suit her. She was much more of a creative type, loving to paint and write and even dance a little bit in high school. After considering the military to get away from her family stress, she opted instead to go into law enforcement. Something inside of her needed the adrenaline at the time, but these days she’d avoid that feeling at any cost. Now, she just wanted peace, yet it seemed to be the most elusive creature on earth.