12

Bjorn woke with a start from an intense falling sensation, and he knew that he would not be able to go back to sleep. If he tried, he would simply be filled with a noxious claustrophobia that would make him both sweaty and cold at the same time, so he turned on the light, sat up in bed and turned on the TV.

He checked his mobile for the time, and it said 5:32, which meant that he had had a good six hours of sleep. Not bad, considering how his panic attacks had been at their worst, but he had hoped the nightmares would pass now that he finally was settled into a job with a steady income and high job security, and he felt a sting of anger as he reflected over this latest dream.

It had taken him by surprise, since it followed a slightly different pattern than he was used to. Mostly, he knew even at the start of the dream that things would end badly, and that there would be a great fall. He would know that whatever he was trying to reach would remain distant no matter how fast he was moving, and he would know that the road would suddenly disappear, and yet he would not be able to escape it.

However, the predictability of these dreams, in their endless variations, did not make them any less effective in depriving him of a proper night sleep. The discomfort he was ridding himself of, by turning on the light and the TV, was very familiar to him. But this latest dream had been different. He had not been moving along anywhere. He had simply observed a beautiful image of a quaint village set in a rich, green countryside. It was a great painting full of details, giving him a sense of harmony and prosperity, and he suddenly realized with a great deal of pride that he had made it himself.

And then he heard himself say with a great deal of joy "I finally did it! I made this!" But as soon as he said this, his masterpiece started to crumble, and he heard a familiar voice directly behind him asking "but why are you here?" Turning around he saw that he was completely surrounded by darkness, and he could see nothing. Then everything changed and he was suddenly standing in the living room of his ex, facing her with their baby boy in her arms, and their daughter pulling anxiously at her skirt. Pointing at him with a menacing finger and talking in a shrill voice, she formed the two words "get out" and that was when everything turned pitch dark, and the only sensation left was the stomach wrenching feeling of free fall.