I woke up, jumping off the couch.  The roaring sound was coming from the backyard.  Mom and Taylor were still sleeping.  I silently walked to the back sliding door to peak out.  I could feel my heart pounding and my hands were uncontrollably shaking.  I pulled the shades over just enough to see our graves.  All three were lined up in a row.  It was scary but the stars above them were so beautiful.  It was dark, but the moon lit up the sky just enough to see where the sound was coming from.  

I knew the sound was familiar, the sound of the chainsaw pierced through my ears and let my heart drop into my stomach.  The man had a devilish smile on his face.  His clothes were torn and his head was bald. He had that cliche scar on his face, but it was slightly covered by a layer of blood.  I felt frozen.  The summer night was beautiful and warm, but I was ice cold.  Millions of thoughts ran through my head.  Why was he here?  All I knew for sure was that he was going to kill us all.  By the time I was able to move again, he was only a few feet away. I slammed the door, but instead of running to the front door, I ran upstairs to protect my mother and sister.

I ran into my sister’s room first.  She wouldn’t wake up.  I grabbed her arm and dragged her directly across the hall into my mother’s bedroom.  Everything was moving so fast, but the bloody man continued to take his time.  It was like he and I both knew, that I wasn’t going to make it out alive, I was just having trouble accepting it.  I sat in my moms bed, holding both of them while they slept.  I remember thinking about how it was going to die, and it would go completely unnoticed.  I was trapped, and no one cared.  It was going to be the end of me.

He pushed the door open, and took to steps in.  Even though the chainsaw screamed, everything felt so quiet.  We looked into each others’ eyes.  I whispered to him, “Why me? I didn’t do anything.”  Instead of replying, he just smiled, and took heavy steps over to me.  He quickly grabbed me by my hair and pulled me off the bed.  I didn’t scream though.  I stayed silent with tears rolling down my face, know it was the end. 

I always woke up after that.  The dreams stopped when my therapy started improving.  I pray that I never have that dream again.