Fucked up night

Last night was a weird night. Jetlag forced my eyelids to pry shut at eight in the evening. Succumbing to the welcoming sleep, little did I know what I was in for.
In absolute darkness, in lucid sleep I heard noises outside my door. As if someone was scratching against the door. With a key or something. Hannah heard it too, she said this afternoon.
Outside, the wind blew with a fury, whistling..drawing strength from the uneasiness that oozed into me.
Somehow, sleep came to me and whisked me away on a ship of dreams. Of horror.
Everyone I knew had died.
Everyone that I loved, was gone. But not quite. An almost identical clone of theirs still existed. But it was not them, and I knew this because I knew them. There was only just a hint of a difference, but it was difference enough...a very slight difference in skin colour, the ever so subtle alteration of their personality, the little tinge of evil in them.
And suddenly I heard something snap. Was I awake? Did I hear something?
Before I could think, my dream conquered my consciousness. Vanquished in my sleep, I was the slave of my twisted subconscience.
The hell I was in continued, undefeated. A bitter ghost of my real past came back in my sleep to haunt me, to torture me, to violate my peace of mind.
In my sleep, I wept. I didn't just weep. I sobbed. Uncontrollably.

In my sleep, I forced myself to open my eyes. Anything to end the misery, somehow.
I felt my eyelids stir. I tried harder to push out the evil images from my head. My struggling eyelids gave in enough for my retina to take in the blurry red light that was the flashing numbers of my digital alarm clock.

A sudden rush of adrenaline hit me. I was awake. I opened my eyes wider, trying to see through the sleep, and the tears. The clock said it was 4.20 in the morning.
I didn't care. I would not sleep again. No way. I was not going to get sucked into that desperately hideous dream again.

I leapt out of bed. I washed my face. I looked around. I had known all along, it seemed to me then, that I had been dreaming. Yet while I was dreaming it, it was real enough to make me cry, to make me feel ugly when I woke up.

I came out of the bathroom. My eyes fell on something lying on the carpet. I went close to it. It looked like a mangled piece of metal. I picked it up, and amazed, perplexed and yes...definitely frightened, I looked at my bedside table. There stood the feet and ankles of the little metal figure I had stuck onto my bedside table with blue-tak. I looked down again at the mangled piece of metal...yes, it was the legs, the hips, the torso and face of that metal figure. How on earth did that happen???? What could make a metal figure the size of a walnut, just snap into two in the middle of the night? Was that the loud snap I heard in the middle of the night?

I came online. And there was Ganesh. I talked to him, vented and cried. About the resurfacing of evils of the past, about the pain of the death of loved ones, of the fear of the death of the ones that are living, of someone who hurt me beyond explanation. More than hurt me.

I feel better now, but I still feel weird. It was just an extremely bizarre night. I hadn't felt this weird and fucked up since I hallucinated about Toto two years ago.