Sharon ran blindly through the darkness. Her ragged breath burned in her throat as tree branches tore at her arms. Please, stop following me , she begged silently. Suddenly, with a gasp, Sharon tripped and sprawled on the freezing earth. She tried to scramble to her feet, but it was too late. The thing raised its knife high above her as Sharon screamed . . . . . . and sat straight up in bed, shaking with fear. The dream was back. She looked around her familiar bedroom, sobbing with relief. It was just a dream. Then Sharon looked down at the scratches and dirt on her arms. It was a dream. Wasn't it?
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