Will Ebony Bell survive her dreams?
~ ~ ~
Ebony was dreaming.
Her long hair was sprawled across the pillow: a mess of red tangles against the clean white cotton. Her arms were tucked in tight; her hands clutched into fists. Even though there was nothing to grab hold of, her fingers were white and bloodless from the sustained, concentrated tension.
She did not twist and turn in her sleep. Her pillows were not flung across the room as her body fumbled and fought its own demons in the dark.