You can feel it. The overwhelming dread of it all, the persistent paranoia; draped upon your shoulders like a cloak. It seems to swallow you whole. It’s what makes you sit down in the shower, wailing into your folded arms as the painfully hot water falls onto your back. It’s the tactile hallucinations of someone standing right behind you, watching you. It makes you feel like you’re delusional, like you can’t tell anybody or even begin to explain any of it. They wouldn’t understand. It’s the same thing that forces you to battle yourself into staying awake as long as possible so that you can avoid another round of your parasomnia.