I never thought that a nightmare could shake me so much; could jolt me out of sweet slumber in the wee hours of the morning in a cold sweat - my hands shaking, heart pounding, stomach churning. I feel shell shocked somehow, almost as if my safe haven of sleep has been violated - stormed by some nameless invader who burns and destroys all as they plod along.

I thought that this issue would die a speedy death - buried by the weight of more pressing worries. Why, then, do I wake to regret; my breath steaming in a cold room as I curl up in bed - infantile, as I burrow under the sheets?