Having just swam to the surface of a deep sleep, I found myself disoriented and fearful. It had taken a number of attempts. It isn’t all that easy to wrestle free of seroquel’s grasp. I know it had taken a little while. A cold sweat was starting as my mind caught up with my now awake body. Then I heard it. I rustle just below me in the downstairs hall. My heart was going like a freight train and each and every muscle started priming itself to flee. Like a rocket preparing for liftoff. The fear pinned me to the bed. I started to roll over looking for the gun. But she’s not there. Nobody is here. Just me, alone. I rose every so quietly. My ears honed in on the rustle of bags. I lay my fingers over the 12″ chef’s knife in my mattress and swung my feet to the floor. I wasn’t going to sit there paralyzed. I was going to meet this one head on. Turns out it was the dogs. I must have forgotten to bungee one of the baby gates, though for the life of me I swear I did them both. My hazy sleep addled mind must me playing tricks on me…


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