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It was that night again. The night it happened. I could see Michael Moore clearly, above me.

I was screaming and crying, begging him to stop, but he wouldn't.

It wouldn't stop.

"Daisy!"

"No!" I yelled. "Please!"

"DAISY!"

My eyes flew open and I gasped loudly, looking up into Eli's eyes. "Shit," I coughed. I was sweaty and hot. "Bad dream."

"No shit," Eli said and slowly released my wrists. "You tried to hit me."

"Sorry," I muttered and rubbed my eyes, taking long breaths. "But you probable deserved it."

Eli ignored the last sentence. "You alright?"

"Fine."

"Liar," he scoffed and I narrowed my eyes at him.

"The nightmares are getting better. That's the first one I've had in a while," I said.

"No, it's the first one you've remembered in a while," Eli said and I frowned at him. "You get them quite frequently, you just don't remember dreaming about them. They started to get worse after you killed him."

"That was two months ago."

"I'm aware of that. I'm a light sleeper. I think I'm the onl
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