It was dark. Everywhere, all around me, all I could see was dark. Not midnight dark, when you're in bed and the stars are out, but three in the morning dark, when the air is thick with fear. It fills it until you can't see anything. And you're stuck there until light creeps back in to save you hours later, or someone decides to be merciful and let you hide in unconsciousness until it's safe to come out again.
       I could see my hands. I held them out, focusing on the only things I could focus on besides what was around me. They got fuzzy, harder and harder to focus on. A grey haze was clouding my vision, blotting everything out.  It grew, surrounding my head, the black dark replaced by the grey.  I could feel it in my eyes, crawling down my throat, cold and heavy and dense, stealing my breath. 
       I woke up coughing.  It took me a long time to get back to sleep.