"So why are you here?"
I was sat down, facing an old man - my therapist.
"I keep having these dreams about this woman." I explained, offering the odd hand gesture.
He nodded, appearing to understand. My eyes widened slightly. "Oh no, not like that. She is always there and she dies because there's nothing I can do to save her."
"Would you care to explain the situation?" He started making notes.
"Well we set up this bubble - this safe place - at the end of the world. I did. We put it out in the middle of nowhere, so nobody would find it. The idea was that when this meteor crashed into the planet, only the people in this bunker would survive. Just us." He turned the page, clearly finding my story either fascinating or worrying. "And I was there. I wanted to watch the end. See the world crumble around me and yet still survive. Like when you're driving on a rainy day - you just don't get wet."
He nodded, scribbling more down. "So where does she come in?" His voice betrayed his age but there was still a youthful nature to some of his words; it made me smile.
"She's on the other side of the bubble and she wants to come in. There isn't the time to let her in. So we both stand there, either side of this wall and wait for the end. Sometimes she screams, sometimes she just cries." The memories were becoming more detailed - she was clearer in my mind now.
"So why are you here?" He repeated, not impressed with my nightmares.
I took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. He had to believe me, otherwise who else could help me?
"Because I keep seeing her. In real life."