I wasn’t sure how to label this dream.

I was in bed. Tucker was beside me. He’d awakened me with a couple claw taps to my hand. This is what he does when he wants me to pet and scratch him at night. I obliged him.

It was 4:50 AM. Dim light was skirting in and around the blinds but the light had an unusual, lemon-green hue. It seemed pixelated with black static. That black static seemed to be closing in on me like a malevolent hand reaching out to seize me.

I wanted to cower under the covers but I felt like I had to get up and check a noise heard elsewhere in the house. Clenching my jaw, I forced myself out of bed.

The black immediately gained mass, pouncing on me like a swarm of angry black insects. I could feel its anger like a growing breeze. Waving it off, I said in my head, “I’m not afraid, you can’t stop me.” I then amended that, “Okay, I am afraid but I’m still not going to let you stop me.”

The black drew down on me and slammed my head like a hurricane wind. I held fast, resisting being pushed back or knocked over. After some seconds of this, I pushed forward toward the door. The black burst apart and vanished.

I woke up. I was partly out of my bed. Surprise held me; “That was a dream?” It seemed so real and intense that I stood there, half out of bed, remembering and thinking before wondering, had there really been a noise? I went to check.

Just in case.