In the dream, Rex was in your room. It wasn't that he hadn't died and everything was really okay. He was still dead, but he had come back to bring you with him.
He dug his nails into your neck and dragged you down to the shore, pulling you into the water with him. You barely tried to fight him. There wasn't so much as a chance to take a breath before you were completely submerged, half-heartedly clawing at someone who no longer seemed to feel pain.
It was just a dream, though. Now you're awake, and the sun illuminates your room, revealing everything in its place as it should be. This space is sacred, filled with your belongings and your memories, no one else's. Literally. The second floor was added during renovations made to the house shortly before your parents bought it, so no one else has lived in it but you.
As you sit up in bed, trying to reorient yourself and settle your nerves, your eyes fall on the thing that most makes this place feel like home.