Chapter 7 Part 5 (119)

I’m being shaken awake in the front seat of the car. My father is saying something but I can’t hear. I realize that it’s because I’m still screaming so I close my mouth to quench the noise. The car is dark and there is a cool breeze pouring in through the open window.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Uh, yeah. I think so. Umm, bad dream. Sorry for the yelling.”

“You were talking and thrashing in your sleep.”

I couldn’t remember the dream just the panic that I was still feeling.

“Really? I was talking? What did I say?”

“Uhh, I think something about a tree. And then you started yelling.”

I couldn’t remember a thing. My heart rate – thankfully – had finally started to slow; I think I was more tired than when I had fallen asleep. The gossamer of sleep was fading; with each passing moment I remembered less and less about how I felt when I was woken. Even the panic faded away into nothing more than flimsy threads still attached to the dream world.

“It sounded pretty bad.” He looked genuinely concerned.

“I don’t remember.”

I must have fallen asleep again because the next thing I knew father was poking me awake.

“We’re here.”

He smiled.

To the left of the car were the trees that guarded Central Park from the surrounding city; to the right lay the forest of buildings that made up the rest of Manhattan.

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