Chill of December

Could it be? The same nightmare again?

I sat up in bed after hearing my phone go off. I looked at the time to see that is was 3 a.m.
A text from Andy? That's weird considering this damn nightmare...

Andy- You up?
Me- Yeah, it's a bit early don't ya think?
Andy- Yeah, you're right. Sorry.
Me- It's fine. Did you need anything?
Andy- It was nothing.
Me- You sure?
Andy- Yeah. Sorry. I'll let you go back to bed. G'night, sweetie.
Me- Goodnight.

I sat my phone back on the nightstand and laid back down. I stared at the ceiling for what seemed like hours, but was only minutes.
I felt as if I needed him there. I couldn't find my peace unless he was.

Each time I'd drift off into the subconscious render of sleep, something...maybe someone, was always there- snapping my incoherently sedated mind back into the piercing state of a cold, hopeless, and malevolent reality.

After an hour of trying to get back to sleep, I still couldnt quite clear my mind. I sat up, beginning to break into a cold sweat, and I couldn't catch my breath. That's when I felt the same familiar sharp pain in my neck. "Fuck!" I said, holding my neck. I grabbed my phone in a panic and called Andy. I didn't even give him time to say hello.

Andy, what the hell's going on with me?
"What do you mean?"
The dream I just had, now I feel everything I felt while it was happening.

He laughed, which scared me even more.

Andy, I'm fucking serious.
"I know you are."
Then will you please tell me?!
"You'll find out soon enough."

He hung up. What the hell was he talking about?