The Thirteenth Day of Tombstone

I. I woke up from my dream. I was covered in thick sweat, soaking the broken hair on my forehead. It clung to the skin and looked a bit messy and frightening, so I wiped it off. My pupils dilated because of surprise and disbelief. This is impossible, not realistic at all? Where is this? I. I remember you on the thirteenth day in the cemetery. I met you on the thirteenth day in the cemetery. On the thirteenth day I was in the cemetery, I dreamed of you.