I can't tell if it is early morning or late evening. I'm not even quite certain where I am until I hear the crashing of the waves to my left. I turn my head swiftly to see the massive waves crash against the sand. I now notice the cold, smooth sand in between my warm toes. I wiggle them, just enough to enjoy a quick massage. Calm washes over me.

I am now walking down the beach. Not one I remember. There is no one around— no kids playing bocce ball or couples walking their dogs; completely deserted. There are no kids building sandcastles or women lying on their beach towels like in most scenes I have seen on television or in pictures. It is perfectly quiet. There aren't even beach houses in sight, if any exist at all. I am alone, completely isolated. For a moment I’m confused. I don’t know if I should run to search for someone or just be here and take it in. I choose the latter. I feel at peace here.

To my right, I see a wall of trees and sand. I take a seat against one of the bare trees and bury my feet in the cool sand. The waves are tranquil. I can see the white caps against the moonlight now crashing into the sand and crushing the shells. I realize it must be dusk because it is getting darker. I start walking, curious and anxious to find out where I am or a way out.

“Damnit!” I yell. I quickly grab my foot. The blood seeps through my fingers onto the stone I just stepped on. The tablet has something written on it, but the blood is covering most of the text. I bend down to decipher the words on the tablet. It is so worn. I can see it starts with an O. An I and S are there as well. I can’t make it out. Frustrated, I grab the tablet and throw it by the trees beside me. It’s that kind of anger you get when you stub your toe. A second later I hear a powerful and frightening voice pulse through my head and all around me. I don't understand the words, but I get the gist from the tone it is angry. It's as if I am in a bottle and the voice is at the lip, screaming at the top of their lungs. It is all around me! I cover my head and ears with my hands and yell back to no avail. The waves begin to react to the voice surrounding me. The waves begin to crash harder and become larger. I can see them more clearly now. They aren't the same tranquil waves from before. They are agonizing and growing more intense. I try to run away, but I cannot escape the voice and ever-growing waves. I turn to see a twenty-foot swell growing in front of me. I turn to run into the forest behind me, but there are no longer trees and dunes of sand ahead of me. Instead, a cold metal wall extends for what seems like forever in front of me. It begins to open. There is no escape from the waves behind me. I have to face the opening. Just as I turn, the wave crushes me into the wall, causing everything to turn black.

I jump from my bed, my breathing out of control and clothes soaking wet from my nightmare. I look into the mirror hanging on the wall beside my bed. I don’t like the reflection. A scared child looks back to me, her tousled hair hiding the right side of her bright-eyed face, her mouth open and gasping for air. Her chest glistens with sweat. No. This isn’t really me. But, it is somehow. I quickly pull my hair into a ponytail and pull the sweaty clothes from my body, wiping the remaining sweat and throwing the clothes to the floor. When did I become so weak? I loosen and fall to the bed. I lazily push the covers off my body and start to my window. It is open like it always is. I sit for a moment while the cold air dries the sweat on my body. I grab the black notebook on my desk and rigorously begin to transcribe the vivid dream I just had. I try to remember the letters I saw on the stone tablet and write them out. Nothing. The letters make no sense to me.

This notebook was prescribed by my therapist a couple of months ago. He wants to see if I am subconsciously remembering my life. I don't remember anything, but I continue to write in order to make the visits more bearable for both of us. I will be going back to see him the week before I leave for Charleston. Maybe it is just what I need to recreate myself. I quickly glance over my dreams. I have been having more vivid dreams recently. I just don't know what they mean. I throw the journal to the floor and I climb back into bed and fall asleep instantly—dreamless.

I awake to a bright moon glowing through my open window onto my bed. I look at the clock. It reads 4:45 a.m. I didn't go running last night, so I decide to dress and go this morning. Maybe it will help with the headache. As I walk down the stairs I can smell the intoxicating smell of blueberry muffins—my favorite. I smell the sweet scent of bribery.

Elizabeth greets me with a wide smile. "Good morning, Analise. How did you sleep?"

"Not so well, actually," I say, grabbing a muffin.

"Another nightmare?" Elizabeth asks, worry in her eyes.

"No." I lie. I lie too much. I always feel the need to protect her from my nightmarish mind. I give her too much grief as it is. "Restless. I didn’t get a run in last night.”

"I'm sorry, sweetie. Where do you think you are going?"

"Going for a run of course," I say. I pour a glass of Gatorade and chug.

I try to run every night. I prefer the night run, even though the night frightens me. It makes me feel brave. This works, though. It is an amazing stress reliever and has become part of my therapy. My muscles ache if I don't run. Running is the one thing I can be proud of—the only thing I have been able to do for myself. Fortunately, houses line the road and offer some solace from the darkness.

"I guess that's fine. Better than going in the dead of night I suppose. Be careful. Stay close." She warns. "Don't forget you have to meet Taylor and Ashley to go shopping in Richmond today. New Orleans is coming up."

Ut oh. I gulp. “I still can’t believe you are letting me go,” I say, mouth full of muffin. I was surprised when they agreed to let me go. I have never left the confines of Virginia without supervision.

“Alex will be there, and I trust him.” She smiles and hands over a bottle of water. “Drink up.”

“Hmm.” I swallow the last bite of muffin and wash it down with the entire bottle of water. So, no aliens. She just trusts him more than she trusts me.

The air is brisk as I speed past the trees, but I welcome it as it fills my lungs and refreshes my senses. I don’t even mind the sweat that rolls down my face. The sun is now beaming against my face—one reason I prefer the evening runs. It is blinding almost, but at least I get to see the nature that surrounds me. This route is by far my favorite for that reason. No cars pass, the dark trees are radiantly peaceful, and the path is flat. My breath is steady. In. Out. In. Out. I’m in total control. It helps me run faster. I make it to mile two and my phone begins to ring. It's Liz—so much for peace.

"You lied to me," Liz says, almost shouting and breathing unsteadily. “You said no nightmares.”

Betrayed. My chest tightens and my mouth hangs open. She has always been overly protective but has never invaded my privacy. I stop my run and take deep breaths for the yelling that is about to commence. "You went through my things? How dare you? You have no right." I am furious. My heartbeat was already elevated, but now I feel as if it might jump out of my chest.

"Come back right now. You are not safe." She says sternly.

"What do you mean I'm not safe?" I ask. I spin around, looking in every direction for the supposed danger. "There is no one. I'm going to finish my run. Bye Liz." I quickly end the call and the next song begins. I have to sit on the asphalt until the song is over. I can’t move because there is so much anger building in my body. I shake it off the best I can. There is nothing I can do from here except run it off. I shouldn’t be surprised. I continue my run and try to let the song take me to a different place.

Not even three minutes later I hear a car approaching from behind. Great. She is coming to pick me up. I slow my pace, and the car slows its speed, so I pull out my earbuds. Just as I turn my head the car flies by me. It isn't Liz. The car screeches to a halt. The sun is still blinding, so I can't make out who gets out. I can tell it is a man. He is holding something in his right hand. The object moves swiftly to his face and I hear a click. Did he just take a picture of me? I continue to stand there, sweat dripping, one arm supporting my body on my leg, my right hand above my eyes, trying to make out the figure that stands before me. He stands there a moment more and retreats back into the car. The car skids away, leaving a dust cloud. I stand motionless for at least a full minute and tip my head in curiosity. I grab my chest as it has tightened further, and now it becomes difficult to breathe. I may have to change my route.

I turn around instead of completing my run to the end of the road. I run at a faster pace while I let my imagination run rampant. It takes me half the time to make the run back—maybe a new record. Have you ever felt like you might just spontaneously combust? I feel that way now. I have to control it, but it’s hard. I just close my eyes and listen to my breathing, trying to steady it, as Dr. Allen taught me. My legs are numb, but I make my way up the stairs to the doorway.

"Don't start," I say. Then I realize she is on the phone. She motions me to be quiet and walks into the study and closes the door. I can still hear, but barely. I hear my name. Not just once. I search for James, but he is nowhere to be found. This isn't uncommon. He is always on a business trip somewhere. I stuff another blueberry muffin into my mouth and reach for another one. I will need my energy for today. My chest still feels tight. I clench it with my open hand and look to my blueberry-filled hand on the table and sigh. Weak.