Prophecy (NaNoWriMo 2014)

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

Bed was the last place I wanted to be, but I was tired and my body couldn’t go under pressure of staying awake. I thought insomnia would be a horrible sleep disorder to have, but since I have had prophecy I wished I had it. I never wanted to sleep, I wanted to fight my body, stay awake, and be strong. But this was not the case, I was more tired and weak since I had prophecy because I always wanted to be awake. I was staring at the ceiling, something I am starting to do way too often. I looked over to my clock.

12:18am

A yawn escaped my mouth and my eyes became teary. My eyes flickered away, slowly turning into a black screen. I clenched the sheets of my bed, trying to fight against the will of my body so I wouldn’t sleep but it was no use. Within minutes I had fallen into a sleep and I stared into a black screen. After an amount of time of looking at pure blackness I woke up, so I thought. I had entered another dream, this time at a hospital.  I couldn’t move my vision around although I was staring down on a bed, a familiar one. It took me about a minute to figure out who was sleeping in it and then it clicked when I seen the made bed opposite of the man sleeping. It was Father Peter. The bottom of my throat knotted and a hot sweat ran through my body, only to be accompanied with a cold sweat seconds after. Something I did when I was in fear. Palpitations thumped in my chest with the feeling at the bottom of my throat.
All I could think of was death and that Father Peter was going to die. I had dreams for no other reason. He looked safe; there were a couple other people in the room with their curtains covered. My vision was fixed on Father Peter.

Dear God please make sure no one hurts him.

A figure walked into the room, not visible to the eye due to the darkness of the night. The figure stood next to Father Peter and stared down on him. The light from the moon peaked through the window placed on the end of the room and a slight appearance of the figure was shown. The mask, glasses and surgeon suit.

D-Doctor Free?

He was my first assumption; he was the only one I dreamt about. He was going to kill Father and I was going to witness the painful journey, not only for Father but also for myself. Free pulled a syringe filled with a green coloured substance and jabbed it into Father’s neck, quickly releasing the substance through his bloodstream. Father didn’t flinch, he was still fast asleep. I was certain Free was grinning behind the mask as touched Father’s forehead. I wanted to scream, shout, and cause chaos and save Father. As Free was touching his forehead a nurse walked into the room and Free ducked next to Father’s bed. The nurse was curious, she raised her neck to look around, as if she knew someone’s presence was in the room.
“Hello?” She called out silently trying not to disturb the patients, which were sleeping, “Hello, anyone? If anyone is in this room visiting hours are closed.”
Free crawled underneath the curtain that covered Father’s bed and the person next to him. He moved over to the next patient’s bed and a chair caught his attention. He moved over to the chair and examined the bottom of it, especially the metal legs. He wrapped his hand around one of the legs and shook it, it was loose. He unscrewed the leg and the chair fell. The patient was startled but slowly went back to sleep not thinking much of what he heard. The nurse became suspicious and slowly walked over to the curtain where she heard the noise. She had red hair, which was tied up in a bun and wore a nurse’s dress that was neatly ironed, not one crease appeared.