"You wake up to the feeling of cold sweat drying all over your body. It was a nightmare you couldn't wake up from. Usually when you dream about your own death, you wake up as you hit the ground, the bullet enters your head, the knife sinks into your neck, or the bones in your body crumble. Not this one. This is the scariest part. It's not dying, it's not killing, and it's not the guilt of doing so, but rather, it's the fact that you can't wake up from this dream. You stay asleep. You die within your own head and you stay dead. You're afraid that one of these times you might not wake up. You might just stay dead and your body will be found a week later by the landlord after a few neighbors complain about the smell. Your body decomposing and no physical clue as to why you just died in your sleep. That is the nightmare. The one you don't experience in your sleep. The one your mind puts together consciously."
I've been having this nightmare for weeks now. Every night the same since the incident. I'm not sure what to do about it, except keep it all in my journal. The one thing I should do, that I can't bring myself to do, is tell her about it. About how in the dream, the gun really fires. Both times. Every time.