Monday, December 10, 2012

Fear the Living, Not the Undead

Last night's dream was a Walking Dead nightmare.  I woke up before my alarm, sweating, and clutching the blanket for dear life.

I'm in Woodberry, being interrogated by Merle.  The whole time I'm thinking "I've got to get back to the group.  Daryl will save me."  Except that he doesn't get there in time.  Merle forces himself on me while the Governor watches.  I try not to think about what's being done to my body by remembering all of the zombies I've killed.  Merle finishes violating my body, and I lie there crying because Daryl failed to rescue me in time.

NIGHTMARE.  I was seriously crying this morning.