Answer:
It is good to be great, or so I thought, until my life became a never-ending nightmare. The dark figure that haunted me in my dreams had become a constant presence in my waking life. I could feel its cold breath on my neck, hear its sinister whispers in my ear.
I tried to run, to hide, but it was always there, lurking in the shadows, waiting to strike. I was trapped, a prisoner in my own mind.
The figure became more aggressive, more violent. It would throw objects across the room, slam doors shut, and even scratch me in my sleep. I was terrified, alone, and completely helpless.
I sought help from every source I could think of, but no one believed me. They all thought I was crazy, that I needed to be locked up. But I knew I wasn't crazy. The figure was real, and it was coming for me.
I ran from the room, out into the night, but the figure was still there, waiting for me. It followed me everywhere, a reminder that I could never escape my own fears.
And so, I resigned myself to a life of terror, always looking over my shoulder, always waiting for the figure to strike. It was a fate worse than death, a never-ending nightmare that consumed me completely.