I woke up crying last night. Not just crying, but sobbing. A sadness has hung over my day like a dreary cloud over a cold cold lake.

The things that haunt my mind at night aren't killers or ghouls or dead things. I suppose you could say they are the "living dead".

The Boogie Men in my dreams are Fathers and Mothers that won't stop doing drugs. They are Fathers that can't communicate to their children. They are mothers that are so far removed from reality that they dare not come back. They are children having to teach their parents. They are children who go out into the world trying to live like who they were never taught to be.

These are the things that haunt my dreams at night.