95. Sweet Dreams Part 2

Do they wait for when you’re weakest?

Hovering in the dark, hidden in the shadows. Hiding and waiting to prey.

Do they see when you’re confused and angry?

Do they hear when you’re asking God why?

Do they laugh when you cry?

Do they strike when you start to wave the white flag?

What do you do?

Where do you go?

Where can you run?

You don’t run, Chris. Not anymore.

Is fear like a pot of stew, something that can be stirred?

Is guilt like a shackle, tying you down and making you unable to move?

What if you could not only see them but do something about them?

But I can’t.

In the silence of night I think about these visions and nightmares I’ve witnessed. Time after time I’m just a spectator.

I wonder what would happen if I could strike back.

If I could throw some light on the shadows. If I could stop these things in their tracks.

Are they really, truly real? And if so, what can be done against them?

Pray, Chris.

So I do.

Believe.

Okay.

Sooner or later, I think the time is going to come that those figures will stand in front of me and attack me.

But I’m not shackled down, and I’m not going to give in.

Those nightmares are going to turn into sweet dreams.

Maybe that will be my ability. I’ll be the first and only one in this bloodline to do something about the darkness and madness and sickness that keeps building and growing.

It’s going to come to an end.

I’m going to make it come to an end.