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KiddieWishes

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 F.Y.I. this is a dream.

I open my eyes to face the ceiling. This must be a dream. I’m lying on the hallway floor of Sunnyside Springs. I sit up and look down at a white, silk strapless dress that ends right above my knees. Pretty. There are black windows covering most of the wall space in the hallway. They remind me of television screens. I start to walk down the hall and the screens click on one by one as I get further down the hall.

I can see old memories in them. As I walk further down the hall, these memories in the screens seem more important to me somehow. I look at a screen to my left and I see memories of past boyfriends. Seeing me so full of joy then almost makes me smile, but then I see me that terrible night. I’m talking with him, trying to help him. But I’m too late for that, his mind is far beyond my soothing and help.

At the sound of the gunshot I start to run. Maybe if I run fast enough and far enough I won’t remember it. I won’t feel the guilt and sorrow. I can live on without him. Maybe I can be whole again.

I hear a piercing scream all around me. I turn behind me to see if someone is hurt, but no one is here but me; I’m all alone. I turn back and see a big screen almost one-hundred feet tall and wide merely a few feet in front of me. In it I’m talking to myself in my bathroom mirror and crying hard, my eyes swollen. This must be what I looked liked after the phone call. I see myself reach for my trusty razor. No! I can’t live this, not again.

I close my eyes and run straight for the screen. To my surprise, I run right through it, trip, and fall. I land on a smooth floor with a thick liquid spread all over. I can’t see anything, it’s like pitch black darkness in the room. I feel around the floor for a flashlight or any light source, but no luck. I brush my hand against something soft, squishy, and warm. It feels almost like flesh.

I bring my hand up to feel my own face when I realize my eyes are closed tight. I slowly open them and see my mother’s eyes staring at my own. Blood is all over her, on the floor, and I can feel it all over me. My mother is lying back down on the floor, her face turned to me, and she has many knife gashes on her torso.

My shocked body can only lie there, looking at my dead mother. I hear faint foot steps coming which snaps me out of my shock, sending another in its place. I jump up to my feet, but something feels wrong about me; like I’m not myself at the moment. I glance down at my hands, they’re so small. I turn all around in the room I’m in, seeing odd shapes. This must be the Rec. Room, there’s a mirror somewhere in here.

I turn to my left to see my seven year old self looking back at me. Oh no...Please not this memory, anything but this one. The foot steps are getting closer by the second to the door. I rush around to find a place to hide, I settle with the broom closet closest to my mother’s dead body. I run in and lock the door just as the door to the Rec. Room opens. I peep through a crack in the door to see a man pacing around my mother. He’s mumbling to himself about having a dirty scene. I see a shiny, golden heart-shaped necklace in his hands. That’s my mothers, se never goes anywhere without it. I shift my body to get a better view, but instead I make all the supplies fall all over me.

The man stops dead in his tracks and begins to walk over to the closet. He gets to the door and start giggling the door handle to get in. I start panicking and getting pretty scared, so I move toward the back of the small space. I hold my breath, hoping he will think it’s just a rodent in here. The door handle stops moving and all is quiet for a brief moment. Then a knife stabs through the door right in front of my face. That’s when I start screaming, hoping to God someone will here me.

***

I wake up standing in the middle of the hallway screaming bloody murder, a cold sweat all over my body. Dr. Rowley is asking me what’s wrong and all the patients of my age group are peeping out of their doors and standing in the hallway. I’m never getting out of this shit hole at this rate.