A Maze of Dreams

Chapter One:

I had regularly occuring nightmares. And September 5th, 2014 was one of them.

I dreamed of my 6th birthday party. Both my parents were there, they were happy, I was happy. Then it changed. It started raining at my party. My hair soaked, The ice cream turned into a giant puddle, and my parents were gone. My childhood home suddenly disappeared and it went black. Two sudden bursts of light appeared and there was a crash. Then my surroundings changed. Everything was white, the curtains, the bed, the walls, the bandages on my body, everything. That steady beeping: beep...beep...beep.

I could hear the annoying beeps of the blaring alarm. I groggily swatted around my bedside table for the snooze button. It was kind of like a game, if I could knock the thing off then I got bonus sleep. After swatting for a while, I opened my eyes and saw that I was on the wrong side of the bed to knock over the clock. That was it, I had lost and it was time for my date with the shower. After slowly trudging into the tiny closet of a bathroom, I could see the almost permanent bags under my eyes in the mirror. My nightmares had to stop, or even concealer couldn't hide them.

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Half an hour later, I was in my car heading to the hospital to see my mother. 

I signed in at the visitors desk, rolling my eyes internally at the overly perky  desk attendent. As if walking into a hospital was ever a good thing. The hospital is stuffy and overly sanitized. It's a wonder that people don't die of suffocation.

My sanity had been taking a major hit those past few days. It was like I had the lukemia and not my mother. I don't think my mind, body, or soul could take losing another parent. At that point, I was desperate enough to sell my soul for her health. After all, I had already sold everything else, including my dreams. 

My mother greeted me weakly when I walked in. These days, her ability to fight off everyday illnesses had deteriorated, which was why she was here at Glennview Hostpital. That wasn't my only worry either, since her diagnosis, I had become the sole provider. My father's life insurance and her health insurance could only cover so much. Let's just say that my job as a secretary only earned so much. At this point I was desperate.

"Hey mom." I greeted weakly. The white walls of the hospital room only reminded me of my dream that night, and it was very disconcerting to say the least.

"El," she said. "You're spending too much of your time worrying after me. You're young, you should be in college, making mistakes and falling in love. Not dedicating your life to mine. I want you to promise me that when I die, you won't spend all your time mourning me, I want you to live your life, make a difference in this world. This isn't the last of me."

"I promise." I lied.

I would do anything to save her. Anything.

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That night I had a different dream.

I was back in the hostpital, only I wasn't in bandages. I wasn't being prodded by doctors or stuck with IV's. I was walking down a hallway, when I saw it. The flyer. It said:

CLINICAL TRIAL

WILL PAY 

CALL 325-691-7854

Sponsored by DREAMCO.

I won that morning. I managed to knock the dang thing clear across the room. It was a wonder that the thing wasn't broken yet. As a result, I was a little late for work. I tried to work, but my mind kept going back to my dream. They say that dreams are based on real life experiences, so that clinical trial could exist. I must be really desperate now. I shook my head and tried to focus on scheduling appointments and ordering things. And to think that two years ago I was I had wanted to be a doctor. I hate hospitals.

 After work, I drove to the hostpital and found the hall that I had walked in before. Half of me wanted to find the flyer, but the other half of me, told me I was crazy and should get myself a room here and maybe some anti-depressants. I was about ready to give up when I found it. The flyer was exactly like it was in my dream, I must have seen it before and registered it in my subconcious which is why it showed up in my dream.

At that point I was ready to do anything. Including calling up a shady clinical trial.