The dreams all started in the summer of 1988. I had just turned 10 years old, my birthday party, even now, a vivid memory in my mind. It was filled with friends, family and around the edges of the grouping, cats. Dozens of them surrounded the area. I could hear them, now that I think about it. Chattering, the sounds they make when hunting moths or butterflies that are on the breeze. At the age of 25, I finally found a psychiatrist that was willing to help me with my night terrors. Extensive therapy, pills and a brief stay within a psych ward finally made the dreams stop.