Shaken, unable to breathe, I awoke. I had screamed. Gran, her silver hair encircling her head like a halo, appeared in the doorway, questioningly. "I had the dream again." Her face crumpled, "Elena, itšs time I tell you..." "What?" "I've watched as youšve grown more like my sister daily." "I didnšt know you had a ...." "Her name was Elena, " her voice quivered. "She was buried, and the dreams started." "I was only a child," she sobbed, "but, I knew." "When they reached her, it was too late. The pink satin coffin lid was shredded, and her fingers bloodied."
Note: This story was written about an actual occurrence which my Grandmother related to me when I began to show signs of psychic ability, something which it seems is passed, in our family, from mother to daughter.
[This one sent chills down my spine and I found myself wishing I could have it for my Halloween issue.]