I let the sand caress my body as I lay on the beach, listening to the soft sound of the waves.

All that hung above were perfect blue skies, only interrupted by a couple of white clouds,

and a palm tree casting the ideal amount of shade on my resting spot.

Everything was perfect, so much that I almost forgot how I'd gotten there.

The beach, the untouched ocean ahead, and the sounds of seagulls were all fake.

I was dreaming, but I couldn't remember falling asleep,

just that the world I had unknowingly entered was a figment of someone else's imagination.

Then I heard the wet squishes almost obscured by the waves,

and the weak whimper is muffled by the ground below.

The world faded before my eyes, and reality came back into view.

Something wet and warm was pouring down my arms and chest,

and in my hand I held the knife I used to stab my wife to death,

the last light in her eyes vanished as she let out her last breath.

Why? She whispered as the life left her body. Silence.

I knew that I'd killed her, but I wasn't in control. While my mind slept peacefully,

my body had kept moving absent myself. I couldn't even cry, or scream.

I could just sit there and shock as I held her limp body.

The only sound that broke the silence was a soft voice that I couldn't tell the origin of.

Thanks for letting me in.

It whispered, then I heard sirens.

Apparently the neighbors had heard her scream and called the police.

Obviously I didn't resist, nor did I deny anything that had happened.

...