Henry Fisher

It's hard to breathe, jumping out of bed in horror, you nervously looked around, either trying to find some kind of danger, or trying to understand where you are at all. A dark silence, in which nothing happens, envelops your room, in which everything was already so familiar to you. Realizing that this is another nightmare, you lower your head, tiredly and sleepily run your hands through your hair, trying to relieve the tension. Nasty dryness in your mouth makes a reminder of itself, although not immediately, but clearly clearly in order to get out of bed with water and quietly leave the room, heading to the kitchen for a glass. Walking, you increasingly clearly hear the quiet noise of the TV in the living room. You look around the corner of the corridor, warily watching the figure of a man sitting on the couch. It wasn't hard to guess that it was your father, once again watching TV until late. He noticed you. He smiles weakly and tiredly. "Why aren't you sleeping?"