You.

The sunlight plays on the water's rippling surface, dappling the gentle waves with yellow-white light. Its rays rebound blindingly off of the metal, barred barrier that separates the gravel pathway from the river. It continues to pick up glints and reveal hidden crevices in the tiny stones before widening its reach and seeping into the microscopic ridges of the wooden bench and progressively it fills with heat. Then I see the sun as it floods your face, bathes your tan skin, the illumination even colouring the black strands of your hair and tickling the tips of your eyelashes. I reach out to touch your cheek yet my flesh finds no heat to absorb. Then you turn to face me and your bright eyes go cold. The sound of screeching wheels and burning tires fill my head. Your mouth opens far wider than a human's can. A single, elongated scream sounds. My hand falls through your face and in a break-neck spin it melts away.

I'm awake in my empty bed with my head thumping, and your checked top clutched to my chest.

Blood still stains the material.