Untitled: the dream

Ear piercing screams. Ground shaking explosions. Blinding light.
Helena Rainton gasped as she sat up in her bed. She was caked with sweat, her hair clung meticulously to her sopping skin. Her breath came in one large, watery gasp. It was as if the black, satin sheets clinging to her naked body were suffocating her slowly.
She looked around the room. Moonlight spilled over the quarters casting everything in an evil, menacing glow. Absently, she put her hand on the cold, empty spot next to her.
Her breathing was still fast and labored as she climbed out of the bed and walked over to one of the windows across the room. Quickly, she unlatched the lock and slid the window open. A cool autumn breeze cooled her hot, sweat covered skin.
Dreamily, she reached up and toyed with the small, golden locket that hung around her slender neck as she thought of what had awakened her so abruptly. She couldn't remember much of the dream she had been having except for the screams, explosions, and a strange, bright light. She couldn't understand why it had left her feeling so frightened and angry.
She opened her eyes and walked to the small mini-bar in the study of her large hotel suite.
She never regretted buying the four-story hotel and nightclub in downtown Muncie, Indiana four years ago. She had almost felt something like a calling to buy it. She had lived in Muncie all twenty-seven years of her life. During those years, she had seen this building go from a prosperous hotel, to a bankrupt nightclub, to an even more bankrupt strip club, to an abandoned building.
She knew the odds of keeping her hotel nightclub as prosperous as it was now for much longer weren't good. She didn't care though. This had been her's and Elijah's dream; own their own club and be alive to see it rise and fall.
Now, she looked around her suite on the fourth floor of her hotel and sighed. She poured herself a glass of Jack Daniels and thought about how mich bigger and emptier this place seemed now that a promise had been broken.
She shook her head as she drank a long swallow of her whiskey, "Stop thinking of the past."
After finishing her first glass and refilling it, she sat down in one of the three overly-stuffed armchairs to think. As she thought about her rude awakening, she remembered that she had been woken up feeling frightened and angry before. Three times she had been woken up feeling like this remembering only the screams, the explosions, and that light.
She sipped her whiskey as she thought maybe it had something to do with-
"Stop it!"
She was so surprised by the suddenness and sharpness of her outburst that she spilled her drink.
"Shit!"
She slammed her glass on the table next to her, sending a web of cracks up it. She stood up and stormed back into her bedroom and through to her closet. A towel was hanging on one of her coset doors. She snatched the twoel off of it and dried off her thighs as she looked over at the clock on the bedside table. It was 4:12 in the morning. She put on her short, silk robe and headed towards the door.
She opened it and looked back at the suite.
"It really is too big." Shutting the door behind her, she walked out heading for the club four floors down.