Regan was wide awake from her dream. She woke up with her face down in the mix of blood and water on the table, coughing up the crude mix of liquid he had inhaled during her lucid dream. She sat up straight, holding her throat tightly as if she was being strangled like the waves pulled her under before, and coughed up the water as she would have coughed up the salty waters in her dream.
That is… if it was a dream.
Regan looked down at her hands, opening and closing them and then wiped her face with them, watching as the pinkish water ran down her hand. 'Yea… it was a dream.' Yet the shivers continued to run down her spine and her throat dried up, the feeling of betrayal replaying in her head. The betrayal she did to herself.
