Night intruder

Night intruder

The indigo-coloured sky was being engulfed by the darkening storm clouds. The wind was cool and fast. It lifted branches and made the landscape look panic-stricken.
I went to bed with an odd feeling again. I could feel the presence of another and had done for some nights now. It unsettled me deeply.
I lay down gingerly and heard the gentle snores beside me. I could see the shadows of the trees outside scraping frantically at the door in the room.
I heard a noise and sat upright in bed. I had been asleep and now I was sweating profusely. The night was cool, but not cold. I heard the noise again. It was coming from the kitchen. There had to be someone in there.
I pulled back the covers. Keeping my back to the wall, I moved into the kitchen where I had a clear view of the outside door, which was made out of clear glass.
Standing squarely to the door was the dark silhouette of a large man with his head slightly hung down looking right at me.
I grabbed the chair in front of me as my legs nearly gave way and I yelled, “Who’s there?”
I woke up. I was glued to the pillow. I could barely move. I was panicked to the point of immobility. My heart was racing so fast I thought it would burst.
For the next six months I had dreams of intruders breaking into my house. The nights alternated between eerie stillness and cool windy storm nights. The quieter nights upset me more as I could hear my own heartbeat all night.
My fiancée at the time was disturbed by my erratic behaviour and my lack of sleep. She couldn’t understand my horror nightmares.
When I finally investigated what they were about, I was told that dreaming of an intruder is related to feelings of guilt and  repressed sexuality. Whether it’s true or not, I’m unsure, however, the dreams stopped just before the wedding. I told her two months after the day.
That was 13 years ago. The vivid nightmares are still in my memory, a sharp and dark reminder of how my soul was just trying to be.

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