Mostly Dead
Friday 14th June, Story #166/366
I was asleep, and my sleep was a scream that went on for a long time and swallowed me, and swallowed me, and swallowed me. Then I was awake, and my waking was panic, and that threatened to swallow me, too.
Cold all over, lying on some hard surface (also cold), plain rough fabric over me. It's dark. I'm not sure how big or small this space is, and that's... disconcerting.
I'm naked.
I don't like being naked. It feels too vulnerable. I try to sit up and wrap that fabric around me, and then I discover whether the space is big or small: it's small. Not much bigger than me. The moment I know how small it is, it feels even smaller.
Everything comes tumbling back: I was in the dreamscape, and Hannah found me. She was angry, lashing out... I shudder, and not just because I'm literally freezing. She left the dream, then. Didn't hold me there until I was really lost, really gone. But it was a close run thing.
Bollocks to this.
I start yelling.
Have you ever been pulled off a slab in a morgue? It's hard to say who is more upset by the experience.
They wrap me up, bring me a hot sweet tea. I think they're treating me for shock. I just want to get home. A taxi is arranged for me. I want to get into my bed, where I'm safe. Sleep. Find the dreamscape. Find Hannah, and put things right. Somehow.
It's dark when the taxi collects me. My own clothes feel weird, as if they've been taken off a dead person. I suppose they have. I lean my head against the window, tolerating the seconds and minutes.
When I get home, I shower, and that helps a bit. A shower and clean pyjamas can cure so many ills. I settle into bed, let my eyelids settle, my breath, my pulse... and... Before I know it I'm staring at the ceiling. I give myself a little shake and try again. It goes this way for many hours.
All my strength (all my personality, in fact) is in the dreamscape... and I can't access it.
Fuck.
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Word count, excluding note: 366
Submitted on Friday 14th June at 23.44
*Quick Author's Note*
First, and most importantly: thank you so much for reading my story! The ha'penny that Vocal will toss in my hat for your eyeballs landing on this humble piece will be well-spent.
If you enjoyed this one, the very best compliment you can give me is to share it, or read another!
A Year of Stories: I'm writing a story every day this year. This one continues my 166 day streak since 1st January.
Please do consider lending your support to the other creators who are also on this madcap "a story every day" adventure. They are putting out excellent content every day!
[Edit to add this 👇 which I've been meaning to do for ages!]
This story follows on from previous micros. I hope you can still enjoy them as stand alone stories, but if you'd like to read them one after another, I've collated them all in one place here
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Thank you!
Thank you again, most sincerely. Especially if you are one of the wonderful people who has been staunchly reading these daily scribbles since the start of the year. I see you, and appreciate you very much indeed! 😁
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Comments (7)
That's sooooo scaryyyy and frightening! Gosh this was soooo good!
Oh dear. She's a bit buggered.
Jesus. That would have been terrifying. New fear unlocked! Love this series.
That would have to be the most unsettling experience ever. Waking up on a mortuary slab. I guess it's better than waking up in a coffin.
Wowsers! No what is she gonna do? Can’t wait to find out!😳
Oh no! That disconnect would be so horrifying!
What a horrifying experience! I hope he finds his strength and personality again. If only he could access the dreamscape….