The Dream

I awoke with a start. I sat up in the bed, causing sweat to roll lazily down my face. I swiped my hand across my forehead and extricated myself from the tangle of sheets. Nausea swept through me as I stood. My hand went to the nightstand, preventing my body from collapsing like a sack of potatoes. I closed my eyes and focused on the soothing patter of rain hitting the roof.
Once I felt confident enough to take the few shaky steps to the bedroom door, I drew in a deep breath and released the nightstand. My head cleared as I exited into the hallway.
Standing before me was a child. I blinked in confusion, feeling as though I should know who this was, but my mind drew a blank. Kneeling before the stranger in my home, I reached out to console the lost soul. The child burst into tears, grabbing my hand. I watched the watery eyes and felt wet tears land on my hand causing a heat I didn't know was possible. The warmth overtook my whole hand and started to run down my arm. I looked down.
Blood poured from the child's chest, mixing with the tears then continuing its journey down my arm. My gaze jerked back to the child's face when I heard a whimper. In a panic I held the child close to my body and rushed to find a phone. In the kitchen we both wept as I fumbled to dial 911. The phone began to ring. Once. Twice.
I felt the small body shudder against me, one final breath sighing out, touching my soul. The pounding rain drowned out the ringing of the phone. I wept for the child I didn't know. A singular desire to escape this unexpected place of misery swept through me. I raced to the front door only to find I still held the child. Without setting the body down I couldn't open the door. The inexplicable bond I felt to the limp figure in my arms kept me from placing the body on the ground. There was no other choice.
The door shuddered as I pounded my back into it. I grimaced, holding back tears, trying to force my way through the door. Ever so slowly, the door began to groan. I had to get out. My mind felt trapped inside the house. The door began cracking and popping open. Wooden splinters dug like needles into my back trying to keep me inside. The door gave one final crack, causing me to tumble through the shattered doorway. I fell. The limp body tumbled from my arms, landing with a quiet thud inside the house.
Rain continued to patter around me, but I remained   dry, impaled by hundreds of tiny splinters pinning me to the ground. Individually, each splinter caused me little pain, it was the combined effect of hundreds that kept me from standing up. My eyes opened... then closed. This could be the end of me.