Writing Group 9 : I don’t remember

I don’t remember

why I woke up sweating, my hands frozen above my head, my heart beating.
I must have cried out, yelled, waking myself up but I don’t remember what I said.
I don’t remember what was chasing me. It was scary, I know that but I don’t remember what nightmarish, ghoulish form this monster took.
I don’t remember where I was, it as underground, I know, but whether it was the catacombs or the metro, wine cellar or car park, I don’t remember.
And why, why all this was happening, I don’t remember.
Or maybe there never was a reason to start with.

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