Perspectives V: Dreams for an Insomniac

The clock showed 2:01 in urgent red. Panic snatching at her breath. Nightmare-replays. The lonely girl, unwanted, unheeded, curled in the corner of that evil house. She could still taste the bitter-almond smell of neglect in the air. She called him. "I had a nightmare. There's a girl in a house where she isn't wanted. No one loves her." "Babe, it's just a dream." She found her lips curving into a smile at the sleepily calm conviction; reality gingerly tested the waters with a shrinking toe. Anxiety, momentarily vanquished, grimly clawed back over the edge of memory. "But do you think there's a girl somewhere in the world who really feels like that right now? She seemed so sad. And alone." She felt the girl's terror reaching out for her again while he swam through the pause. "But that's not possible. Everyone has someone." That's not true, her brain protested in the instant before reality returned with a splash. Bathed in its warm wave, comfort snuggled back into her bed, waiting for the covers to be pulled up around them. She closed her eyes, a soft "Sleep tight" lingering at the edges of sleep, leaving something silently solid resolutely unexamined in a corner.