PLEASE PLEASE reblog this post regarding The Baby Butterfly Foundation

Holy Ghost Bumps

I’m lying on a couch, and I can’t get up.  I can’t move a muscle.  I strain against myself to make my head move.  Nothing.  My arms and hands.  Nothing.  I can’t get my mouth to work as I attempt to call out for help.  The only thing that escapes my barely parted lips is a guttural “uugggggggghhhhhh”.

Then the feeling hits me.  It’s cold, and very unfriendly.  I feel as though I want to run away from it, but again, I’m immobilized.  Fear begins to creep in, seeping through me like molasses on a cold winter’s day.  My voice has a frantic tone to it now as I continue to try to call out to someone, anyone, for help.  “Honey,” I hear from a distance.  “Are you okay?”  Lena finally heard my cry.

It wasn’t until my wife woke me up that I realized I was dreaming.  I was…

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