Art Therapy: Hannah

As much peace and joy I had found the night before, it didn't seem to carry over to my dreams.

Though, calling them dreams felt inaccurate. Night terrors was more appropriate.

Flashes of men in masks, gloved hands touching me, smothering me. Screaming but it not making a sound. Screeching tires. Threats whispered in my ears. Being able to see Roman in the distance but not managing to get his attention.

Jerking awake, I gasped for air, and had to look around and really ground myself to the moment in order to calm down.

I was in mine and Roman's room in our house. It was late fall. I was safe with an army of bodyguards and security on the property. Okay. I was okay.

Looking over to where Roman should have been laying, I saw that he was gone.

I knew that he couldn't have gone into the office; he would have woken me to say goodbye.