The Horrors

Chapter 16: Shared Stories

The late afternoon light filtered through the window, casting soft, golden hues over the ward. The other residents, familiar yet distant, were gathered in their usual places. Conversation drifted between them, a mix of shared experiences and whispered worries.

Lyn, sitting cross-legged on his bed, broke the silence first. "You won't believe the house I was assigned to," he said, his voice half-amused, half-exasperated. "An old man with dementia. He’d spend hours talking to people who weren't there. Once, he mistook me for his long-lost brother and refused to let me leave his side. It was exhausting and sad at the same time."

Sera looked up from her book, her expression distant. "I had to care for this woman who never spoke," she said quietly. "She would just stare at me with these vacant eyes, following me wherever I went. Sometimes, at night, I'd wake up and find her standing by my bed, just watching. It felt like she was haunting me, not the other way around."

Ave took off his headphones, joining in. "My place wasn’t as creepy," he admitted, running a hand through his hair. "But my patient would spend all day listening to old records, the same songs over and over. It drove me crazy. The worst part? The music would still play in my head long after I left."

Zz paused his sketching, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Mine was... unsettling," he muttered. "I had to look after a middle-aged woman who claimed she could talk to ghosts. She’d keep whispering to invisible figures and would get angry if I interrupted. I swear, sometimes I’d feel like I wasn’t alone in that house, even when it was just the two of us."

All eyes turned to me. I took a shaky breath, feeling the tightness in my chest. "Alicia," I began, her name almost choking me. "She wasn’t just strange. At first, she was friendly, overly so, but things got worse. She... she did things. Crossed lines, made me feel so uncomfortable I couldn’t breathe." I swallowed hard, my voice shaking. "I thought I’d be safe there, but I wasn’t. It was like she knew exactly how to get under my skin."

A heavy silence settled over the room. The others exchanged uneasy glances, their usual chatter quieted by the weight of my words. For a moment, none of us spoke, each of us lost in the memories of our assigned patients and caretakers.

Lyn finally broke the tension, his voice soft and understanding. "I'm so sorry," he said. "That must've been awful."

I nodded, the knot in my stomach loosening just a little. It felt strange, but a small part of me was relieved. Sharing the horror, knowing that others had struggled too—it didn’t make everything better, but at least I wasn't alone.

The shadows in the room grew longer as evening approached, and we all sat there, exchanging stories. We found small comforts in each other's presence, even though we all knew that the scars left behind by our experiences wouldn’t fade easily.