Alena

The night is a tempest in my mind, a whirlwind of shadowy figures and piercing screams that twist around my consciousness like banshees in the throes of a macabre dance. My body writhes beneath the sheets, a silent battle raging as I fight against the unseen demons that claw at the edges of my sleep. Beads of sweat gather like tiny sentinels on my forehead, anointing me with the glistening evidence of my inner turmoil.

“Please, no more,” I whisper into the pillow, my ...