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NIGHTMARES WRAPPED ITS fingers around Samantha, painting her biggest fears before she suddenly jolted awake in a cold sweat, a scream threatening to crawl from her throat. She was shaking in her sheets, the tears burning her eyes as she looked around frantically, and catching sight of her brother's sleeping form next to her cot, she felt her heart rate return to normal and she calmed down.
Jean used to tell her that her inner demons are the cause of nightmares. If they couldn't get her in real life, they would deprive the sleep from her until they could leak into reality. Inner demons were like shapeshifters, manifesting into the thing that a person would fear the most. As much as she hated to admit it, she feared a lot of things.
Sighing, Samantha crept out of her cot and slipped on her jacket. It wasn't cold, but it brought her security. The first thing she saw was the campfire had been restored and was now flickering in the night. The second thing she noticed was the silhouette.
As she edged closer she noticed it was Jim, this causing her brows to furrow.
Samantha and Jim have never interacted, him not really being the talkative type. As terrible as it sounded, sometimes she forgotten he even existed in the camp, and she was sure she wasn't the only one. His way of reminding the campers however, was his constant wails at from the nightmares that haunted him. She felt like she could relate to him on that part.
But whatever happened to him, it was so traumatic that it took the light from him eyes even when he was alive.
"Couldn't sleep too?"
His voice made her jump. She was brought back to reality only to realize he wasn't even looking at her when he said that, but somehow he knew she was there.
She rubbed her head and approached him. "No, nightmares," She admitted. "Same thing?"
He was silent for a moment. She looked at him and could see the fire dancing in the shadows of his eyes. "A dream." He finally responded, his voice so quiet Samantha had to lean forward in order to hear him.
"A nightmare?"
"Don't remember, but it was horrible."
A wave of pity washed over the brunette. "I've had dreams like that," She admitted softly. "I couldn't remember, but I couldn't shake of the feeling. It was as if the dread stuck to me like glue," He didn't respond. She couldn't even tell if Jim was listening or not."My grandmother used to tell me our nightmares were our inner demons," She remembered Jean's harsh stories, and they still brought her chills. "All her stories were about monsters, honestly. But they were just stories-"
