The cold morning air crept into the bedroom, although the fireplace was still smoldering in the room. You woke up from a loud and ragged sigh from Alex. He was lying next to you, his face covered in sweat, and his lips were whispering words:

"No, no... stop... don't!" - barely audible words escaped from his lips. You look at him, realizing that this is again one of those nightmares that have been haunting him lately. It is cold outside, the wind howls through the window, as if an anxious background to Alex's sleep. His hands involuntarily twitch, as if trying to protect themselves. You understand: he is dreaming a nightmare again. These nights have become familiar, but they are no less difficult.