Not for Sale
I’m sorry, but the dreams are not for sale. I could never sell them.
They’re evil. They haunt me every night, refusing to leave me. They show me visions. Visions of my past. Visions that I want to forget, to run away from, yet the dreams don’t let me. They torture me. They remind me of my mistakes and my losses and how I can never go back to the old me. They wake me up in a cold sweat, unable to calm myself down. They leave me crying and screaming, chewing off every last bit of my sanity.
I’m sorry, but the dreams are not for sale. As much as I would love for this torture to end, I can’t give them and break someone else’s soul.