[ WP ] You discover pictures on your phone from places you have been in your dreams .

A window less room. An island with a single tree, bearing a fruit similar to a coconut though it's like nothing I've ever seen. A half destroyed building, abandoned in what looked like a disaster. What looks like the remains of a plane crash lie outside, and it's raining. 
 
 I awoke in a cold sweat to the sound of my phone vibrating. A drip runs down my temple and reminds me of the difference between reality and a dream. And I had just awoken from a nightmare. One that had repeated through my head multiple times for the last month. And today was my birthday. 
 
 I stare down at the messages from an unknown sender. Three new picture messages, though there's no way they could be real. A windowless room. An island with a single tree bearing brown fruit. An abandoned building with a view of a crashed plane, covered in apparent blood stains. 
 
 My phone says the time is 11:50, so it technically is n't my birthday for ten minutes. I debate with myself over the idea of going back to sleep. I reside laying back down in bed and stare intently at the strange pictures. No one knows about my fevered nightmares. They are an impossibility, yet here they are. Three picture messages from an unknown sender. The number is blocked. 
 
 I'm scared to go back to sleep. Terrified. But I ca n't go get my mother. Awaking her is a fate worse then the nightmares themselves, as she had been drinking tonight. I also do n't understand why they terrify me so much. They're just images, surrounded in the mist of nighttime fear. Maybe it's because they're so ominous. I turn over and close my eyes, praying for a calm night. It will be my birthday in ten minutes, after all. Do I not deserve a peaceful night, for at least tonight? 
 
 Eventually, I succumb to the lullaby of my cool pillow and drift into slumber. I am greeted not by the usual onslaught of surreal images, but instead by a wall of Polaroids. Each shows a different setting, sporting a simple wooden chair. In all of them, the chair is empty. A beach, a street in an empty city with skyscrapers, what appears to be a school. All showing an empty chair. 
 
 As I hear the echos of someone's footsteps, I grow to be scared. I do n't know why, but as if by instinct, I get up to run. Except I m petrified in fear. The familiar feeling of cold sweat on my temple terrifies me even more. It almost feels real. 
 
 I awake screaming on a cold stone floor. I touch my face, and remember the difference between reality and a dream. I look around. I have awoken in a windowless room. 
 

