Hitting the ground wakes you from your nightmare. For a moment you lay there, just happy to be out of the nightmare once again. With each day it grows more vivid; this time, you could feel your bones as they were thrown into a pile after the flesh was ripped from them.

You push yourself off the floor and onto your knees, soon you're standing. Your eyes catch your reflection in the mirror. The face that looks back isn't the face of a twenty-six-year-old, but of a wrinkled ninety-year-old man. Your body is more bone and skin than flesh, your teeth are gone, and your eyes are hollow and dead. You shudder as you feel the urge to walk down the street and enter that accursed house once more. Each day, you feel the urge grow stronger and stronger as you grow weaker. You know one day you will enter that house once more and suffer that nightmare one last time.