I am four years old and I am having that same dream again. The one where I am running through a dense dark forest, running for my life from a large, hungry, brown bear, “California”. I am running through the thick branches and then I am in a tree and I am climbing as fast as I can. The tree is so tall it goes on and on and I am being chased. Now I am six. I go faster and now I see a boy above me, urging me on, saying, “Come on, you’re almost there, you can do it!” and I am almost reaching him and each time he urges me on, saying, “Just one more step, I know you can do it!” and I climb up to that branch and he is still one branch higher. I am climbing faster and faster but he is always out of reach and then, finally, I can see it, I am going to reach him this time, and I climb up to that branch and it breaks under me. I am twenty three now. The boy reaches out to me and grabs the tips of my fingers and I slip away and fall and fall and fall. I fall so far that eventually I look around and realize that I must not be falling at all. I am a baby. I am flying. I have total control of where I go and I can swoop down over houses and hills and by people and they don’t seem to see me. I fly over my hospital and then I circle around and look in the windows to see the children in my ward sleeping and the nurses walking around and it feels so nice. I keep flying, past familiar streets and houses. I come to my own house, and my family is there and none of them see me and I realize the will never see me in this state. I realize I must return to my body and I feel the jolt and wake up crying. I am confused. Even though I must be awake I don't know how old I am or where I live. I want to get back to the dream. I close my eyes and float, but the phone rings. It sounds distant. I go for the phone but find I can't move. I struggle and manage to reach it on the fourth ring. I hear my Mom and sister crying. I am awake.