When I was younger, I used to suffer from nightmares often. Several times a week, I’d wake up in a cold sweat with goosebumps up and down my entire body. For the most part, I would wake up knowing it was a nightmare, but there was one I wasn’t so sure about.
I lived in a room with my sister, we had our beds pressed up against the walls. Our room has our …
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Writing on a Whim to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.


