A booklovers'romance chapter 16: Dream a little dream
I'm getting sick and tired of the press surrounding Mort's house. Fortunately, they haven't discovered where I live yet, so at least I can get some peace in my home. All the attention is stressing me out and I have to admit I'm starting to take it out on Mort.
It has lead to a few fights, because Mort is even more uncomfortable with all the reporters in his garden. I sigh. I know It isn't Mort's fault either but I really wish the press would leave.
I hear Amy's screams, pleading for mercy. Strange, normally I would have cared but now I wish she'd just shut up.
"Mort, what are you doing? Stop! It's me, Amy!"
"Mort Rainey isn't home missus. He's gone."
I hit Amy's head with my shovel.
I watch as the blood is pouring from her head, morbidly fascinated.
She moans in pain.
Wait, is she still alive?
I hit het again with my shovel.
This time, she remains silent.
I wake up with a gasp. Disillusioned, I look around, realizing that I'm currently sleeping in my new bedroom, with Joan laying next to me.
This isn't the first time I've had this nightmare and it's freaking me out.
"Mort, honey, are you alright?" Joan asks me, her voice raspy from sleep.
"I'm fine, just a nightmare."
"Do you want to talk about it? I'm awake now anyway."
"No!" I realize the panic in my voice and try to calm down.
"Thank you but no, I'll be fine. Go back to sleep baby, you look tired."
When Joan falls asleep again, I stare in the darkness. How do I tell my girlfriend I have reoccurring dreams where I murder my ex with a shovel, transforming into Shooter like Dr. Jeckyl in mr. Hyde? Should I tell her? Why do I have these dreams anyway, what do they mean?
I shake my head. Stop with the psychobabble Mort. Just because Freud believed that dreams had meaning, doesn't mean it's true. You should get some sleep.
I toss and turn for an hour, before getting up and turn the computer on.
Dreams: random activation of the brain stem during a state of unconsciousness. Dreams mainly occur during the REM (Rapid Eye Movement) state of sleep.
Great, this really helps me. I can't believe I'm searching for Freud's theories online in the middle of the night.
"Mort, love, what on earth are you doing? It's 5.30 in the morning."
"I couldn't sleep."
"Obviously. Mort, you've been restless for the entire night. What's bothering you"
"I'm just stressed out because of the reporters who have basically taken resident in my backyard." It's close enough to the truth, they annoy the hell out of me.
"Well, defend yourself against them. Sue them, take a defence course, I don't know. Whatever gives you a peace of mind. I'm worried about you, love."
"I don't need a defense course!"
Joan doesn't answer. I turn around and look behind me. She's asleep again.