I was in my old house. All the lights were off. Charlie, my mothers husband, was coming after me because he was going to hit me and rape me. I was standing up for myself and screaming at him, speaking loudly so other people could hear me. “What are you going to do? Hit me? Not anymore!” And then I realized we were alone in the house. I slammed the door and locked it, panicking.
Somehow, I felt as if I were reenacting someone else’s traumatic event. I felt that it wasn’t my memory, as *me*, but rather I was someone completely different.
I started screaming “help help me help me!!!” Because I thought he was going to kill me. I ran around the house turning all of the lights on and they would just turn off. I remember thinking that I shouldn’t run too fast in the dark because he probably had a knife and I would run right into it.
It was dark. I was back in my own bed. I was having a flashback in my dream about getting raped. I could feel their hands on my body. I tried to scream myself awake but it wasn’t working. I couldn’t move or make noise.
I woke up gasping for air in my girlfriends bed, in her apartment. I thought I was still in my old bedroom and it took me a while to realize where I actually was.