Pumpkin Hollow

Chapter 1: Goodnight

Chapter 1: Goodnight

Don't let the boogeyman get you...

+ My eyes snap open the instant I can breathe again. Panicking and searching the room for any signs of the man, my heart rests once I realize I'm awake. But I can't really call this sleep, even if I wanted to. It's more of a nightmare to close my eyes. I like to sleep, but I can't stand dreaming. It's so hard to picture the last time I've slept without screaming. I think it was before my parents brought me here... it's so hard to remember. Then again, I can't remember much from ten years ago. The color red fills those empty spaces.

My hands blindly search the bed for my stuffed wolf. Tugging on an edge of fur, I quickly pull it into my arms and squeeze tightly, as if I was some five-year-old boy seeking comfort. I know I'm way too old to be sleeping with dolls, but Vern is more to me than that. I don't know exactly where I got him, all I know is that I've had him since I was very small. The shades are open and a horrible stinging erupts from my left arm. Pulling up my sleeve, I am un-surprised to find yet another bruise, purple practically covering my entire upper arm. This unusual ritual happened every night ever since I could remember. My arm looks exactly as it did in the nightmare, but with less dirt. Thankfully, it didn't hurt as much when I had consciousness.

Facing my attention to the window the warm, glowing light floods over my bedspread as I sit up to see the comforting morning sun. This room, I don't like to call it my own. It defiantly does not feel like home, and it's nothing to look at in interest. All that's in here is a white dresser and bedside table with a lamp. To make matters worse everything is pure white. White used to be my favorite color when I was little, but being in this hellhole just made me sick at the sight of it. Since my parents left me here at the hospital ten years ago, I never kept anything in my room. They let us draw and glue crafts together but I never really felt that I should hold onto anything. After they left me here, I never could really hold onto anything...not even a friend.

As if I need one, I think. Why did I say that?

"Matt," A voice breaks the silence as the door squeaks open. Immediately pulling my sleeve down I realize it's Linda. She was one of the few nurses that came to give me my medication in person. The rest of the staff just left it on the dresser. I've always wondered why. Were they too afraid to give it to me upfront, or did they just simply want to ignore me?

I wish they were more like Linda.

Handing me the small plate of pills and glass of water, I begin to thank her. Soon enough she disappears from the room without a word before I can even make out the words. I don't know exactly why the doctors gave me medication if it didn't help with the dreams and bruises. Could there be something else wrong with me? Swallowing the last of the water with the bitter aftertaste lingering on my tongue and ache ceasing in my arm I set the plate on the dresser top and walk out with Vern in my anxious grip.

+Wandering towards the far right of the hallway, I try my best to avoid Avril, the woman from 409. Every morning she stands in-between our rooms staring at the fluorescent lights with no movement whatsoever. She's been doing it for ten years. I've always wondered why she looked directly into that light. The doctors say it's because she's suffering from post traumatic stress. But even now I still remember when I first came here I mistook her for a young woman. She had glistening golden hair, and her skin was very fair for her age. It was like looking at an angel. Now, Avril looks more like a lab rat than the angel I used to see every morning. Even today, I try my best to keep my distance for the fear of making her look at me. Her staring at me with those bloodshot eyes... it reminds me of the dreams.

+Midday comes too quickly, as usual. Sitting in a chair in the far corner of his office, Dr. Pumaill scribbles in his notebook as I observe the bandages on my wrist. He takes blood from me every Thursday. Like the pills, I have no idea what he intends to do with my blood or why have it taken.