Don't Sleep

2. Experiments

My name is William White and I am part of an experiment, along with my best friend Sarah Grove. All the experiment involves is up sleeping. That sounds pretty simple, right? Wrong. Let me explain to you how wrong all of this is.

        One: the medication. Since we are experiments who signed our lives away desperately to scrape together some pennies, we have to do whatever we are told just to catch a glimpse of our pay check. We have to take the medication, a liquid form of something, once every half an hour for three hours (six doses in three hours) before we intend on sleeping. We have to take the medication since we need the money and people will visit to check up on our 'progress'. The worst thing about the medication is that it makes the dreams begin.

        Two: the dreams. The dreams are nightmares, coming back night after night to torment us. That is what the entire experiment is: torture. When the people visit us, we have to tell them all about the dreams, reliving the horrors that refuse to leave our minds. Sarah normally has dreams about being chased around a burning house by some kind of horrific creature that she sobs about when she tries to describe it. I usually dream about the hallway.

        Three: the outcomes. Although Sarah and I aren't allowed to be told about the outcome of the experiments, we know how it affects us. We take the medication. We say goodnight to each other over the phone, Sarah sobbing. We have to pretend nothing is wrong to our families. They can't find out about the experiment or they will be killed. We go to sleep. We dream. We wake up screaming profanities to our concerned parents, phoning therapists and psychologists. We lie our asses off to the professionals and come home to see a nice envelope of money sitting on our windowsills every two weeks.

        Four: the resistance. Every attempt to resist the dreams always fails. We tried skipping medication but it turned out that our bodies had started to rely on the medication to function. We were always tired and ill and weak until we took our required doses. Cutting down on the doses didn't work either. We tried sleeping pills or anything to stop us from dreaming with no success. We were doomed to keep on dreaming until we finally collapsed under the pressure and torment we were put through.

        To us, we were victims of torture with no way out. To them, we were just the experiments.

__________

This is just a little note.

I hope this cleared a few things up and sets the story.

I'll be getting into the actual story in the next chapter. I just wanted to set the scene first and explain things so it won't be confusing during the story.

Any feedback and critisism is always appreciated since I want my writing to improve.

I don't really know what to say.

-EndingOfInfinity (Jay <3)