The man is normal looking, average height and build with an expressive face. He’s pale and his balding head glistens with sweat. There’s nothing about him that’s intimidating, except his location. He does not belong in my house in the middle of the night.
I don’t know how he got in or what he wants. He seems confused and angry. Jeff goes to talk to him and blocks the man’s view into our bedroom. I was already standing out of sight, but our son is in bed, too far away. I motion for him to join me and for him to be quiet. He understands and creeps toward me.
Somehow, Jeff disappears, and the man’s view is no longer blocked. He sees movement, and his eyes light up. He reaches for my son. And I am an inferno.
“Do NOT fucking touch him!” My voice is high and wheezy, but I have one. Usually, in nightmares like this, all attempts to scream or cry out fail. I open my mouth and nothing happens. “DO NOT FUCKING TOUCH HIM!” I wheeze-scream again.
And I reach for the intruder. Somehow, I am behind him now and I grab his shoulder. Usually, in nightmares like this, I move too slowly or not at all. My feet are rooted to the ground, and the air is like jello. This time, my hand makes contact with his shoulder.
I dig deep into his flesh with my nails. My intent is singular and powered by my fury. I want my claws to go so far into his skin that they touch bone. While I dig, I pull back and feel his flesh give. And I love it. He’s off balance now. His pain coupled with my angered power brings him down.
I fall too but am on my knees in an instant my elbow poised above his nose. I collapse into his face with all my weight and fury. I feel a crunch but he’s still struggling. Up again and my elbow comes down on his face again. And again.
And I wake, panting and sweating. My chest hurts from not being able to scream as loud as I wanted to in my fury. And my heart is pounding, but not in fear.
Not sure who you are dude, but do NOT fuck with my family.