Rubbing your eyes, you resolve to stop yourself from dreaming again.
Weeks pass. You sleepwalk through your job. The world seems empty, hollow.
One night, you look at yourself in the mirror. You hardly recognize the face that stares back: your eyes are bloodshot and grey, and you look so pale. As you open the medicine cabinet, something tumbles out and falls into the sink.
The key.
You pick it up and marvel at how cold it feels. You walk back to your bed, suddenly exhausted. Every muscle feels sore. You could sleep for weeks.