[ WP ] You randomly awake in the middle of the night and find yourself in a different body , in the woods burying someone ...

The shovel bites into the mound of freshly tilled earth. My mouth is whistling a tune that I do n't recognize. In the distance, a pair of headlights illuminates a green sign - Monida: 4 miles - before blinking out and disappearing into the wall of trees. 
 
 It's cold, the sky is clear. I could count every star if I wanted - but I have to finish the job. 
 
 What job? 
 
 A scoop of black, muddy dirt falls into the shallow grave, and I glimpse streaks of mascara running like tendrils down her pale cheeks, before the earth swallows her face. I do n't recognize her, either. Probably old enough to drink, but just barely. Even in the polarizing light of the full moon, I can tell how brilliantly red her gown must have been before... 
 
 *Before what? * 
 
 Before I killed her, of course. 
 
 My mind jolts with the sudden and unwelcome thought, but my body keeps going about its business, shoveling and burying and disposing of the unwanted thing. This is n't me. I did n't kill her. I do n't kill people. Murder is wrong. 
 
 This is a nightmare. 
 
 *Wake up, * I tell myself. *Wake up, this dream sucks. * 
 
 But the scene keeps playing out. More dirt, less woman. More dirt, no woman. More dirt, and the pile is gone. Just a roughly rectangular patch of dirt, big enough to completely hide a petite, nameless redhead. 
 
 The person I'm supposed to be sighs with relief. 
 
 `` And I say goodbye to thee,'' a male voice says. `` Dear wellspring of misery.'' Too high to be mine, even though it is. 
 
 In a nearby tree, I gently place the shovel in the open trunk, though it's narrow enough to sufficiently conceal the evidence. 
 
 I peel off my gloves, still whistling. Without sparing another glance at the place where she's buried, I head toward a black pickup parked a ways away, and- 
 
 My eyes fly open. 
 
 I sit up, half-expecting to see the black pickup. The curtains catch the moonlight, sending a cold, white glow across the room. Everything looks normal. No dirt. No dead woman. 
 
 Two images from the dream linger in my mind: the woman's face, and the green sign. I do n't even know what state Monida is in, let alone the road or the general area. 
 
 It was just a dream, though. I'm assigning value to a sequence of nonsense. 
 
 I rise from the bed, heart still rattling my ribs, and cross to the window to nudge the curtains aside. My breath fogs up the glass, and as I lean in to look out across the backyard, two words reappear in the condensation. I recoil. 
 
 *Find me. *
