I try to scream but icy, black water fills my lungs. I fight to get back to the surface, but I continue to sink. I can’t breathe. The vile, black water is filling my lungs. I’m losing control of my senses. My efforts grow weaker. My arms slow. My eyes remain open, but my vision fades.

Everything is a dark fog.

Through the void, there’s a whisper. “I can’t sleep …”

I thrash in my bed, flailing my arms against the water that isn’t there and fighting for air. I can still taste the black, briny water in my mouth. My sanity slowly returns.

“Goddamnit,” I sigh, wiping the sweat from my eyes.

It takes several minutes to calm my breathing before I can sit up and look around.

I’m still not used to this room.

Why does it feel so claustrophobic? It’s not huge but it’s not a cage.

And what is with these dreams?

Last night, it was Caitlyn’s shattered body in the car, and tonight she was floating in the lake. Why is my subconscious doing this?

If I’m going to get any sleep tonight, I need to see Caitlyn. I need to see her safe in her bed. It’s the only thing that can counter the lingering image of cradling her cold, dead body.

I climb out of bed and make my way down the hall.

I open the door to Caitlyn’s room and my heart starts racing.

Her bed is empty.

“Caitlyn?” I go over to the bed and throw back the covers. She’s not there.

No. Oh, please, no. I start searching the floor for wet footprints.

“Caitlyn?!” I cry out.

There’s a noise behind me.

Snoring. It’s coming from the closet.

I tip-toe over and open the door.

Relief washes over me.

There she is, curled up into a ball, wrapped in a blanket, her head on a pillow, and sawing logs.

“Sweetheart, what are you doing in there? You okay?”

She doesn’t stir, only continues snoring.

I gently pick her up and put her back in her bed. I pull the covers over her, kiss her on the forehead, and back out of the room.

I glance towards the open door to my bedroom.

No, thanks.

I head down the stairs and drop onto the couch, before grabbing the remote and turning on the television. Flipping through the channels, I come across a classic horror movie marathon. On the screen, Vincent Price is explaining the rules to a group of people who will get a staggering ten thousand dollars if they stay in the house for one night.

I should turn the channel, but I love this movie, and there’s no way I’m going to sleep, anyway.

7