It’s been a long time since my last nightmare and hating going to bed because of it. It all starts when I was twelve; however I remember watching my mom being afraid to go to bed, too. She describes her nightmare as a feeling of someone watching her and throwing a pillow over her face. She can’t breathe and trying to open her eyes and she couldn’t. She would wake up screaming and crying. My brother and I would sleep with her to calm her down. I don’t remember exactly when her nightmares stop, but as soon her nightmares disappear, mine begun. Of all my siblings I was the only one with the same nightmare as my mother. I’d begun sleeping less and less and hating going to bed. I still can’t sleep long hours, however as today they’re gone and I don’t miss them at all.