I wake up in a sweat. Where are you? Is it over? Did you win?
The clock reads, a grainy red, 3:47 am. Oh. It was another nightmare.
I roll over and get out of bed to make sure he didn’t break in. The wind blows against the panes. I shudder.
When I take a sip of water, it tastes like blood. It was a dream, right?
After I crawl back into bed, my mind won’t shut off. I relive the nightmare.
I punch him repeatedly with slayer strength, but he gets up and laughs in my face. “Is that all you got baby girl?”
We’re in his apartment. The surroundings seem strangely vivid.
I kick him this time. Hard. In the gut. Again, he laughs. But this time he comes at me.
I run downstairs to the kitchen. I know this place. I used to live here.
Grab a knife. His best butcher knife. He always keeps them sharp.
For a moment, I hesitate. You can’t hesitate. Remember what he taught you.
So, I spin around and plunge it through his chest.
No blood! Again, he gets up. He’s the terminator. You’re Sarah Connor. How does this end?
HELP! I scream but no words escape my lips. My eyes lock on his. He won’t win. But then, he manages to grasp my neck.
He squeezes slowly enough to watch me squirm. He’s going to enjoy this. You can tell by his eyes.
It wasn’t supposed to end this way. Your story. You’re supposed to win.
My heart beats hard. I sit up in bed at the memory of it. My throat still throbs. I rub it a bit.
Really, though, is it ever going to be over?