The sleeping girl is still. Very still,in fact. Her breathing is difficult to discern because it is so irregular and spasmodic.
She dreams. Or are those nightmares?
Her brain conjures up a horrifying image of a masked man,wearing black from head to toe.
She can hear footsteps.
Whose are those? Is the masked Man accompanied by someone? A crime partner?
She doesn’t know. She can’t know…
Jessica jolts awake. Another one. Another gurgled scream. When will this stop,she doesn’t know. She realises the position of her hand. It’s on her chest.
Her sleepy brain reminisces the old wives’ tale-“Never sleep with your hand on your chest or sleep on your stomach. You are just inviting nightmares in if you do so.”
Ah. The cause.
The effect? A lugubrious and insipid life led by said girl.
A silent thought of fighting her nightmares creeps in her mind. She cannot wave it off. It may seem silly but it is a valiant move provisionally.
She regulates her breathing and lays down in the position she woke up in with her hand laid decently on her chest, next to her heart ,to find out the Mystery Of The Masked Man.
Sleep comes easily but with a tingling fear in it’s wake.
Sometimes,taking risks in life is what makes you stronger.