My Plagued Mind

Kageyama didn’t get them often. His dreams weren’t often there, he just slept. His dreams were black, nonexistent, or a faint memory in his mind. But the nightmares. They plagued his head for days, sometimes weeks. He would wake up, sweating, eyes wide in horror and near insanity. They were so real, in the twisted form of something so sweet, he could feel every surface as if it were in the corporeal world, he could hear, smell , see, everything. The edges of the nightmares weren’t blurred like a faulty TV screen, there was no static and no random occurrences. It was painfully, terrifyingly, sickeningly real.