A Nightmare Unveiled

Beep, beep, beep. The only sound in the quiet room. The first sound to reach her mind. Beep, beep, beep. It pierced her brain. 

Fern opened her eyes. Now there was much more to comprehend than the simple beeps. 

There was a bright, white light in her tired eyes. It blinded her. 

There was a rough, clean smell in her sensitive nose. It made her shriek. 

There was a stiff, pleasant fabric underneath her frail fingers. It made her cling.

She was drowning in harsh, foreign feelings that flooded her head.

After a while of laying in shock, she regained control over her senses. She looked around and tried to understand. She saw white walls, white tiles and windows, a white frame of her bed, her white body. She noticed the medical equipment, the tubes that engulfed her. She looked at a small glass of water, standing on a table beside her. She saw flowers by the window, light seeping in from under the door, a tall, dark figure in the corner, a book on the table, clearly left in a hurry. 

It was an ordinary scene. A calm hospital, a calm day. She began to catch the murmurs and sounds coming from the hallway. She sighed, relieved. She didn’t know why she was here, but she knew she was safe now.

…Wait.

A tall, dark figure, standing in the corner?

No, that can't be. Not now, not again.

Fern immediately shut her eyes. She just needed to calm down and put to use that rusty technique she came up with. Surely that would work, it has to work. It’s the only escape plan... just what was it again?

One, breathe in. Is this how this goes?

Two, hold. I don’t think that’s what happens now. 

Three, breathe out. Are you sure that’s what it was?

Now open your eyes!

And just like that the room was back to white and sterile. Fern relaxed the muscles she didn’t know she had tensed. She was back in the white tiles, white floors and ceilings, white furniture, white body and clothes. That figure flooded the room not only with its darkness, but also the memories it held. Now she remembered. 

She remembered razors in shoes, monsters in the corners, sitting on the sofa, questioning her sanity.

She remembered exhaustion, lost friendships, tears.

She remembered dark figures in her room, running to her car, and the accident.

That’s how it went. It’s pathetic, really. She tightened her grip on the bed sheets. She preferred when she didn’t remember. Oh, how she wished she could forget.

Fern turned her pale face to look at the whiteness of the window. Right now, even the colourful space behind the curtains has faded. It was as if Earth was her reflection. It was a hard pill to swallow, but as long as the universe wasn’t dark, she would manage. She just needed to drink a lot of water.

The next couple of weeks were as muddy and faded as her face and mind. She couldn’t bear to look at herself, she couldn’t bear to face the reality. Not yet, she wants to roll just a little more. 

She had guests over. If we can call the relatives visiting her in the hospital guests. Let’s just stick with that, after all it’s not time to face the real world yet. But wait, there was a different guest too. Unfortunately, Fern couldn’t kick it out, even if she tried. 

At some point, a nurse came in. It went like this:

A thin, tall, blonde woman entered the room. Her clothes, smile and face are just as white and colourless as everything. She smiled and explained the purpose of her visit - to give her medication. After all, she was in a car crash. Now she gets to be on a whole load of painkillers, It wasn’t a light car crash, oh no. 

The nurse’s visit was normal, at least most of it. Then Fern blinked. 

The moment she opened her eyes a dark, muddy figure appeared in front of her bed. It was only a couple of metres away from her. It contrasted with the bleached reality, she couldn’t avert her eyes.

So she just stared. Her lifeless pupils traced the figure in front of her. Its slow movements, how it leaned towards the bed, scaring the life out of her, just to lean away moments later. 

She doesn’t know how long this lasted. It felt like an eternity. She was waiting forever for that figure to do something, but it would just lean. She was anticipating. She wanted something to happen, to finally end that misery. But it just leaned forward.

What put her out of her misery was the nurse instead, terrified screams of, “Ms. Meyers what happened!? Are you ok!?”, or, “Can I please get a doctor!?”, echoed through the lifeless room. At least a bit of emotion was forced into her life - not that she welcomed it.

One day came her mother, it went as follows:

A chubby, short woman entered the bright, white room. Her long, dark curls tied messily in the back of her head, her eyes darker than usual, more tired than usual. It almost looked like there were more wrinkles and marks on her skin since they last talked. Or was that also a hallucination? Her colourful clothes were just as muddy as everything else. Even the fluorescent scarf wasn’t able to colour the blank room. 

“How are you?”, said the woman.

“Fine.” responded her muddy daughter. At this point, she was a shell of the shell, the person wasn’t visible under the whiteness.

“You’re laying in a hospital bed, frail and fragile, be honest for once.” That hurt.

“I’m fine. On my way to full recovery.” C’mon, you won’t fool your mother. Definitely not, no, a mother won’t believe in lies.

“No you’re not.”

“No I’m not.” She sighed.

The woman put her chubby, worn out hand on her daughter’s, fragile and equally worn out.

The hand was so dark. As if painted with black paint. Now it’s melting. It’s melting? No, that can’t be right. She looked up, and God, she wished she didn’t. Her mother’s kind face wasn’t there anymore. No. What was that dark mud? It dripped.

Fern started laughing hysterically. What else was there to do? How can she function like that? Laughter was the only thing left to do.

Fern.

Fern!

F E R N !

Oh. Where did all that mud go? I swear it dripped onto the floor…

“What on Earth, Fern!?”, the concerned woman cried.

Time to stop rolling. The world is waiting.

The world hit on a day like any other. Fern was doing what she did for the past weeks, maybe months - nothing. She doesn’t know how long this nothingness lasted. The washed out society was melting into mud, she just grew to accept it. Nights become days, days become nights. Months and weeks were just the same mass of grey and white. 

Nothing and no one was able to break that weak routine, break the white tiles, white windows, white walls, white face…

Everything was white. She couldn’t stand all that cursed white. The only thing that wasn’t all bleached was that dark figure. It was the only thing that stood out. The only thing that reminded her she wasn’t dead. Her life got lost within that whiteness, it was so bright she couldn’t see.

Ironic.

Night fell over the hospital, but was it night? Maybe it was morning, or even noon. Doesn’t matter. The part that does is the guest Fern received this time.

The door to her room flew open. A pale woman of average height entered the room. Her messy blonde hair adorned her light face and frail shoulders. Her clothes were clearly worn out, different to her usual appearance. Her fierce eyes feverishly wandered around the blank tiles of the tame room. She was a friend, one of the few that didn’t leave. That dark, melting figure pushed friends outside of Fern’s life and took their place. That girl, who was now in the door, was one of the few she had left.

“Hi… ”, said Fern, her voice coming out creaky and shaky. After all, she hasn’t talked for only hallucinations knew how long.

“I know what you’re seeing.”

You… what?