There she was.  At the mere sight of her, the blood began to pound in my veins.  All reason was lost.  "She must, She must, go...I must get her...I must KILL her..." The red flashed, and then...

Sarah woke up gasping, covered in sweat.  She had had that dream again, the one where she saw that girl, the one who looked eerily like her.  "Just shake it off, shake it off".  But she couldn't.  There was just something about that dream that left her angry and irritable for the rest of the day.  And the dreams were becoming more and more frequent.  For some reason she couldn't explain, the dream was worrying her.

"Sarah!  Are you up?" her mom hollered up the stairs.

"Yes, Mother, I am up.  Can you remember a time in the past year that I haven't been up when I was supposed to?"

"Sarah, there is no need to be so snippy!"

"Ugh, I'm sorry mom...I don't know what has gotten into me."

There I go again...Why am I doing this?  I really need to get to the bottom of whatever the issue is here.

As she headed down the stairs, Sarah decided that she needed to talk to someone about this.  During a quick breakfast of cold pop tarts and milk, she thought about telling her mom, but decided that she really wouldn't understand.

At school that day, Sarah just couldn't shake the anger.  Her best friend, Moe, wouldn't talk to her after ten.  Sarah sighed heavily, and decided to work  THAT one out later, when she wasn't so angry.  Out of options, she went to see the school counselor, Mrs. Voomich

The receptionist in the guidance office smiled and told Sarah to head on back.  

Sarah knocked hesitantly on the door, and said, “Mrs. Voomich, I’ve never done this before....but I need to talk to you about something...sort of weird.”

Mrs. Voomich smiled warmly, and invited Sarah in with a wave of her hand.

“My dear, I’m sure its not a weird as you think it is, but why don’t you shut the door and tell me whatever it is.”

“Well, I’m not sure how to begin...but here goes:  I’ve been having this dream lately...over, and over.  At first it didn’t worry me, but then I started having a lot.  Lately, its been almost every night.  And that’s not the only thing.  When I wake up, I feel...really angry, and it lasts all day.”

“Why don’t you tell me the dream, it would help me to help you.”

“Okay, I’ll try.  I’ll do my best, anyway.  It starts out with me, standing in a fog...I’m dressed in medieval warrior clothes, at first anyway.  I’m on some kind of quest...I don’t know what exactly it is, but its important.  I’m alone, and that’s important too.  As I walk, I get painful flashes of red in my vision, and each time I get them, I get angrier and angrier.  Then all of a sudden, the landscape is painfully clear, and I’m wearing my regular, everyday clothes.  I’m standing in the middle of a field, and then, I see her.  The one I have come for.  I know that I must kill her, and, it makes me so angry that I can’t feel anything but my anger.  Then, there is one more red flash, brighter and more painful than any of the others.  And then, I always wake up, but the weird thing is, I’m mad all day.  And the girl that I have to kill?  She looks just like me.”

Mrs. Voomich took a moment before speaking.  

“Well, this isn’t all that unusual, for the most part.  I think the key is to have the rest of the dream.  Why don’t you  just relax, everyone has bad days now and then.  Try to go to bed early tonight, and come and talk to me tomorrow.”

Sarah left Mrs. Voomich’s office feeling, not exactly fulfilled, but a least a little better, knowing that she wasn’t as weird as she had feared.

That night Sarah went to bed early, as Mrs. Voomich had suggested.  

She stood in the mist, ready to take on her task.  She was alone, as was vital to her mission.  Her armor in place, she began her search.  Periodically, she had sharp, painful flashes of red, but these served only to motivate her more.  She grew angrier and angrier as she walked on.  She had to find her, give her what she needed, deserved.  And then, there she was.  At the mere sight of her, the blood began to pound in her veins.  All reason was lost.  "She must, She must, go...I must get her...I must KILL her..." The red flashed, and then she attacked.  One stab was all it took.  She was gone.  Suddenly, the anger went away, replaced by a feeling of shock and revulsion..  She bent over her, trying to revive her...”What have I done?  What have I done?”...

“Sarah!  Are you up?”

Strangely, Sarah didn’t respond.  With her heart beating, Sarah’s mother began the long climb up the stairs.  She opened the door to Sarah’s room and let out a blood curdling scream...

Sarah’s funeral was quiet, as most funerals are.  Nobody could understand quite why Sarah had taken her own life...except Mrs. Voomich.  She stood quietly in the corner, with the requisite tears running down her cheeks.  When no one was looking, a sly smile crossed her face and she whispered to herself, “Just as I had hoped...”