Night terrors were awful, for sure. I replayed my death, feeling the flamethrower, each night for years, several times a night. I can't believe my parents never discovered. Can't believe I probably didn't scream, because I thought I did. That went on into my teens, I think. My recurring anxiety dream now is of being in a huge building - can be a hotel, can be a theatre, sometimes a university ... but always it's divided into two parts. The entrance and exit are only in one part. It's full of stairways and corridors, but only one of the many floors joins the two so you can get out. Sometimes parts of the building are in ruins. I'm always in the wrong part of the building, lost, trying to find which level it is that has the linking corridor to get into the right part of the building so I can escape. I never do get out. Ha, seems we're all prisoners of some sort!