Sleep is not welcome

I cannot sleep. When I am able to drift off at all, the dreams are suffocating. I have never seen fog in Steelhead this thick, and the fireplace does not warm me as it should. The unreality follows me through my daily routine, to the part when I rise to find I have lost my head! Then I wake in reality, and the terror grips me until fatigue draws me in...

It has been growing slowly for the past week, but last night I could not manage a moment's rest. If I slept, it was in that terror-filled fog, and awake, I was not really aware. The haze of fatigue made me not realize how late it was.

When the knock at my door came, I was gripped in fear that I did not know what was real anymore.

"It's Ama, from the office - I came by to check on you."

I quickly opened the door, hoping for an anchor in reality, "Do I still have my head?"

Well, what followed was not exactly what I thought reality would be. I slowly began to feel I was normal again as the medic poked and prodded, and shone bright lights into my eyes. Then she did... something. One of the uncanny things that I would not have believed if someone told me. It felt like I was wrapped in a warm, soothing blanket, and then she said she linked it to Perun's ring.

I worried that it might have changed things, but she laughed, and teased me much as Miss Davies would do when I was being doubtful.

I am afraid I yawned in her face, incredibly rude of me. She was very practical about it and told me to sleep myself out. Then she was gone.

The whole day had begun to be impossible to believe, and yet, I did feel more relaxed. I curled up in bed, and as soon as I fell asleep, the fogs rolled in again. This time, I was not alone. Perun and I found our way to the inglenook at the hotel lobby fireplace, and the fog receded. There was still the feeling that there was something *out there*, but the odd woman in the courier's uniform appeared. Miss Ama laughed and told us not to worry, so I didn't.

I slept through to the next morning, and was refreshed enough that the news of the grafitti did not frighten me as much as make me angry that whoever did this, they *wanted* us to be afraid.