What a terrible dream?

"No, Jackson, she is not me," she said amid a scream as she dashed up from the bed.

"That’s a terrible nightmare," Jane said to her, and she cowered with her hands.

"Jane, are you?" She is not sure she is awake; she thinks she is still sleeping.

"Of course I have been here since and watched you say this; I’m not dead. I guess it’s a terrible nightmare. You refused to let go of my hand. I heard said a lot of things."

She raised her eyebrows; what has she said now? She recoiled her hand from her grip.

"And what else have you heard?" She shied away from her face; she was somewhat confused, trying to understand that this kind of dreaming is indeed a terrible nightmare; she couldn’t explain the message it was driving at.

"It’s me, your love, and I miss you." She pinched her; she didn’t tell her what happened to her the last few years; she was away; she doesn’t know if she should ask her about the past few years she left her after betraying her; she guesses that would make her angry;