I wake up from yet another fitful sleep. The bad dreams that have haunted me for the last few weeks are relentless. The images still play out in my waking mind, like the memories of a film I watched months ago, but this latest dream is the most troubling. In it, a tsunami had ripped through a seaside town I was visiting. In my hotel room on the top floor, I witnessed its destructive approach as it gained sickening momentum towards me with every terrified beat of my heart. When it hit, the building had shaken. I’d braced myself waiting for the windows to implode…but they’d held out. Instead, I’d watched through the glass as debris grazed past, swirling in the reckless current. It was then that I’d sat and prayed, hoping that my family would be alright. When I’d finally opened my eyes, the water had dropped below the window level. I’d watched in horror as broken bodies had floated past. Half clothed, eyes wide open, young, old, the tsunami held no prejudice to the victims it had claimed. Suddenly, an image of my brother as a young boy flashed before me before vanishing just as quickly as it has appeared. Now I sat disoriented trying to think happy thoughts so I could get back to sleep. I snatched a pitiful hour before my alarm woke me. I go about my day with an anxious knot in my stomach. The images of the dream still haunting me. I clock watch, dreading bedtime. After putting the children to bed I decided to also reside with a book, hoping that it will take my mind off the nightmares. I wade through it turning the pages but not really consuming the story. My husband snores soundly beside me oblivious to my fear of falling asleep and the terrors of what my dreams might bring tonight. My eyelids become increasingly heavy, but I fight to focus on the bleary words and stay awake. A hefty weight as someone sits on my bed wakes me up. I shoot open my eyes, but my husband is still fast asleep beside me. I call out my eldest child’s name, “Molly, is that you ?” I sit up, switching on my bedside light as I do so. I’m shocked to see my brother sitting on the foot of my bed. “Jonathon, how did you get in here, is everything alright?” “Yes, sis don’t worry I’m fine. I just wanted you to know I did it.” “Did what?” Still half asleep I’m confused. “I chased away the demons. Everything is going to be OK now…but I have to go…I just wanted you to know that I’m Ok!” He gets up and gives me a bear hug. I smell his familiar scent and breathe him in. It’s been weeks since I’ve seen him. I feel relieved and a rush of love washes over me. He pulls away smiling. He looks radiant, it glows from him. He straightens and leaves. My husband snores away undisturbed. I sit there a moment or two wondering what he meant, but without warning exhaustion from my sleepless nights from the last few weeks claims me again, and I fall asleep half sitting with the light still on. The piercing rings from the house phone in the hall wake me. It’s the weekend, so my husband makes no effort to get up and answer it. I can hear the children downstairs laughing to a cartoon on the T.V. The ringing stops and I listen to Molly’s muffled voice. She shouts up to me, “Mom, Grandad is on the phone.” I throw the bedclothes back and put on my slippers and dressing-gown. I feel refreshed, but then suddenly remember my night time visit from my brother. I hurry down the stairs to tell my dad about it. “Morning dad, I have to tell you about…” “Megan, I…I have some bad news.” I hold my breath, my heart hammers against my chest. “It’s…Jonathon…he passed away yesterday morning from a heroin overdose.” He breaks down crying on the other end of the phone. “They…they found his body as they were preparing to knock down the old flats by the river…apparently…he’d been squatting there since he went missing last month…Megan, Megan are you there?” I gasp, as the realization hits me. “Dad…he’s at peace now… his demons have finally gone!”