I may be wrong, but I think just about everyone has had a nightmare that leaves you in a sweat when you wake up.

Still, it’s one thing to have “a nightmare” or two, but to have them back-to-back for a week goes beyond the norm. And that’s what happened with me. So, since I wrote outlines for seven of them, I briefly highlight them here, starting with Tuesday the 18th.

Tuesday: I was fourteen or so. Walked inside the house and there lay my parents, their body parts strewn about the house and a giant talking lizard licking his blood-stained lips, saying, “You’re next.” I ran and ran and then stumbled and fell to the ground. When I woke up, I found myself on the floor next to my bed.

Wednesday: I was arrested, tried, and convicted for murder. Handcuffed, blindfolded, and taken to what was called the: Nowhere Prison. There was no bed in the cell, no food to eat. Just thrown inside and left to die. I could see three cells across from me. One had skeleton remains, another showed a man near death, and another where the man spoke to be in a foreign language that sounded like Russian. No windows to look outside. No lights inside. When I woke, I bolted upright and relieved to see I was in my bedroom.

Thursday: In a dense jungle somewhere in South Africa and I was exploring. It wasn’t much longer that I walked right into a quicksand pit. Screaming for help but no one was even close by. I struggled to escape and the more I did, the deeper I went. By the time I woke up, the quicksand was at my nose.

Friday: I was beaten near half to death by a group of white people for talking to a black woman. They grabbed me and put me on a horse then put a noose around my neck, slapped the horses’ rump and there I was struggling, legs kicking, eyes bulging open watching the men laugh and cheer in their victory. When I woke up, first thing I did was gasp for air.

Saturday: I was fourteen or so. Walked inside the house and there lay my parents, their body parts strewn about the house and a giant talking lizard licking his blood-stained lips, saying, “You’re next.” I ran and ran and then stumbled and fell to the ground. When I woke up, I found myself on the floor next to my bed.

Sunday: A woman was with me, and we were abducted and put in separate rooms. I was told I had a decision to make to keep the woman alive. I had to answer one question. “Would you kill 100,000 people to have world peace or your lady friend to save 100,000 people?” Woke up from that one quickly.

Monday: Falling. Just not ordinary falling. The ground opened because of an earthquake. I, like other people around me fell into a dark cavern of no return and what seemed days were only seconds, I landed on a hard, hot ground. The heat was unbearable. Did I fall to the center of the earth, the core? Impossible! I would be burnt to a crisp. Then a figure walked toward me with large claws for fingers and a curved bone atop his head. His eye were flames of fire and he said, “Welcome to hell.” He then threw me a shovel and said, “Start digging.” That freaked me out and I woke up with a short cry escaping from my lips.

Tuesday: Three weeks after Christ was crucified, so was I. The pain, unbearable. The thick metal nails were hammered into each wrist and my feet, bund together were nailed together. Then I was blinded by another piece of metal, hoisted up and the cross made a heavy “thump” as it settled in the hole in the ground. The Roman soldiers left me there to die. No on there to mourn my death. Why? Because I asked someone why they killed such a great man as Jesus. And for that I was put to death. This one I woke up to on Wednesday the 26th.

I hope the nightmares end soon. It’s gotten to where now, I’m afraid of going to sleep.

What is even stranger is all these nightmares could be turned into short stories.