STORYBER

Dreaming (03.10.20)

Everything's blurry, distorted. My vision finally focuses and everything becomes clearer. I'm in a room. All the walls are white. I can feel the smooth leather under my skin. Under my skin? Oh, I'm wearing a hospital gown, what a pleasure for my back. My arms are not totally bare though. They hurt. It's probably because of the rope tying me to the white, and really uncomfortable, chair. They'll surely leave red marks on my skin. My head is as bare as the back of my body, someone shaved it. I hear a click. Oh, the door is opening. Someone in a white blouse is coming to me. Oh, oh, they're coming with a syringe. They're really close. I must be dreaming. It's not possible, how did I end up in the hospital? I did not. I did not, I'm dreaming. There's no smiling nurse. There's no syringe full of a white liquid that kind of reeks of almonds. If I pinch myself I'll escape these four walls. I'll be back in my fluffy bed, with my pajamas. But I continue to pinch myself and nothing changes. The smell of the nurse's breath begins to mix with the one of the syringe. I pinch myself another time, stronger this time. I let out a yelp, that hurt. I'm still in an isolated white room, on a metalic chair covered in worn out white leather, and a stranger in a white coat is going to inject a white serum in my body. I'm definitely going to die if I don't wake up. This is a joke, a dream, well, more of a nightmare. "Don't worry, everything will be over soon." Says the nurse in a supposed-to-be-reassuring voice. I can feel the sting of the needle on my arm. It's almost as strong as my thumping heart is loud. I hope this will wake me up. But it doesn't. The nurse gives me a big smile and says "Sleep well. Sweet dreams, honey."