Fiction logo

Content warning

This story may contain sensitive material or discuss topics that some readers may find distressing. Reader discretion is advised. The views and opinions expressed in this story are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of Vocal.

I Had That Dream Again

It was only a nightmare...

By SaraPublished 26 days ago 5 min read
I Had That Dream Again
Photo by Andy Li on Unsplash

The heavy thud of my boots echoed along the tiled floors and bare walls as I walked through the desolate hospital corridor. At least, that's what I thought it was. But the rooms were all empty, and the only illumination was from the overhead fluorescent lights, giving off a sickly, dull yellow hue and a constant buzzing. The smell of hand sanitizer and lemon-scented cleaner permeated the air and made me queasy.

I found that I hated the brightness of the light, and the buzzing resonating in my head. It was too much, too overwhelming, to the point where I could scratch my own skin off if I stayed in the hospital any longer. But no matter how far I walked, I did not seem to be getting any closer to an exit, nor were my senses polite enough to become blind to the smell. Despite how faint they were, it still made my head hurt.

The only doorways led to more empty rooms, and no human was to be found anywhere in that lonely, isolated corridor.

I didn't know how much longer I kept walking. But there was nowhere else to go but forward, so forward I went. Eventually, I found what I was looking for. An emergency exit sign, followed by an arrow pointed up. It made me elated, though I wasn't sure why. Up until that point, I felt... nothing. Despite my overstimulation, I did not feel any sort of irritation. Nor depression, nor happiness. No, up until the point that I saw the exit sign, I was completely empty.

I walked towards the exit sign with a heart significantly lighter. The nauseating light dimmed, and I came upon a dark stairwell. Unlabeled doors marked each floor, but as I walked up the stairs, I could not open a single one. From the glass panes on each door, there was nothing. Like someone had taped a piece of black paper to each of the panes, making it impossible to see the outside world. No amount of slamming or kicking or shoving would open these doors. They were all locked, each and every one of them.

I came upon the final door on the 5th set of stairs. There were no more stairs leading up, so this had to be the top floor, right? I didn't know. I didn't know this place at all. Even if I did, there were no notable features that I could see to help me guess as to where I was located. No, for all I knew, there was the possibility that it wasn't even a hospital.

But that didn't matter. None of it did.

I opened the final door, and my face was hit with a cool night breeze. It was only then that I realized it. There was something on my face. Warm and wet, sliding down my cheeks. Was I crying? How did I not notice that before?

I wiped the tears away, but it didn't help. More came and replaced them, the cool air barely doing a thing to help. My eyes were strained, undoubtedly red, and snot clogged my nose and throat. As I stepped outside into the inky darkness, all of the feelings I'd been lacking came rushing into me at once, like a switch was flipped. Like I'd opened the door to a flood.

Desperation. Agonizing pain in my chest and stomach. Despair. I felt like I'd vomit. Guilt. Anxiety. Irritation. Hopelessness.

I'd failed my family, my friends, everyone I cared about. None of them liked me, they all secretly hated me and wished I'd go away. I failed at life. I didn't hit the milestones I wanted to hit when I wanted to hit them. I didn't get the grades I tried really hard to get. Nothing ever seemed to go my way, and every step I took was just one step back. I ruin everything I touch. Why won't these voices go away? Why do they always have something negative to say?

Why do I always fail?

I stepped further onto what I knew now was the roof of the hospital. The tears that ran down my face were uncontrollable, and I couldn't help but sob openly, clutching my chest and willing the pain to go away. But no matter what I did, it would never end.

The voice that cried loudly into the open air was not my own, and the hands that tightened around the white fabric I wore were not mine, but none of that mattered. The only thing that mattered was that I was close to the end.

I walked towards the edge of the roof, the socks on my feet doing barely anything to hide the bitter cold of the rooftop on my soles. I looked down over the side, where the road that passed by the hospital was. No cars, no buses, no cyclists, no pedestrians could be seen. No one was there. It was empty.

The wind picked up around me, tossing around the fabric of the hospital gown, and I made my choice. My pain and suffering would be gone, and so would I. I met my grand finale with a leap, and as I looked up at the endless, empty space with my back to the ground, my long, dark hair flying around me, I couldn't help but notice how much my fluttering hospital gown looked like the wings of an angel.

I practically jumped out of bed, my heart pounding ruthlessly. I struggled to breathe for a second, and my hands were shaking badly as I clutched the bedspread. Sweat coated my entire body, and it felt like my room was sweltering, despite it being early fall and having my air conditioner on.

"You alright?" a quiet voice came from beside me. I looked over to my wife, her long, dark hair cascading over her shoulders as she rubbed her eyes.

I quickly nodded my head. "Yeah. I had that dream again. I'll be fine in a little bit," I said, my voice quivering as I watched her concerned expression. She reached out and hugged onto my arm, and it made me feel... slightly better. Slightly.

"Why won't you tell me what it is?" she asked, stroking my arm in an attempt to soothe me. She always tried to make me feel better after having nightmares, but I couldn't talk about it.

"It's nothing to worry about. Go back to sleep, alright?" I gave her a kiss on her head and hoped that would be enough, but the worried glance she gave me was a clear indicator that she wasn't convinced. I flopped back into bed and drifted off into a more peaceful, dreamless sleep, resolved that I would never tell her what–and who–I saw in that dream I had again.

PsychologicalShort Story

About the Creator

Sara

I am an avid reader and unprofessional writer. My dream is to one day get published. I write fiction in various genres, and am currently writing my first novel. Any interaction helps, & contributions are greatly appreciated.

Enjoyed the story?
Support the Creator.

Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also pledge your support or give them a one-off tip, letting them know you appreciate their work.

Subscribe For FreePledge Your Support

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

    SaraWritten by Sara

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.