To Sleep Is To Dream

To Sleep is to Dream

Alice was dreaming.
She knew she was dreaming, but she couldn't wake up. She was being pulled down into Sleep's thick, murky depths, choking as stagnant water claimed her nostrils and mouth. It closed in over her head. Her arms thrashed about, then her eyes stared into the icy blackness.
Going down, down to the bottom...
A hand grasped her, pulling her above the water.
“Miss Hanson?”
Adrenaline tore through her body. Her eyes burst open to the pasty ceiling and walls, finally focussing on the figure leaning over her. A lamented blue and white rectangular tag with a blurry photo labelled “Kate” floating on string just above Alice's nose.
“How are you doing this evening? Had another nightmare eh?” “Kate” never expected a response. She pulled a thermometer from her breast pocket and popped it into Alice's mouth.
Alice made a snatch for it. Clutching the smooth metal between her fingers, she opened her mouth to take in full, desperate gasp of air.
“Still got that rotten cold too haven't you? It's been going around. You need to keep your fluids up.” With dutiful impulse, she pointed at to the small plastic cup that sat alone on the bedside cabinet. “Do you want me to get you some more?”
Alice shook her head violently from side to side, her hand clasping the thermometer as she squeezed some air through her teeth.
“Kate” shrugged, sweeping the thermometer out of Alice's fingers. “Still a little high. Never mind, it'll go down soon. You'll be all right.”
...

Alice knew better. She wouldn't be all right. She'd never be all right again.
She knew he was around. Still torturing her even now. She shifted onto her side, curling her aching legs into a foetal position; the side of her face sinking into the pillow. A world where no one could help her, no one.
Her eyes pinned onto the iron bars against the window. They hadn't changed. Nothing had, not since she arrived. There was nowhere to go, except into her dreams.
...

The consultant psychiatrist glanced up from his case file as the pretty dark haired nurse entered the room after a brief knock.
“Yes Kate?”
She glanced quickly around the paper-logged office. His brisk, impatient tone always made her feel she was intruding on a private moment. Stepping awkwardly towards her boss's desk, she stared past the top of his grey, thinning scalp to the blackness descending outside the window. She unconsciously pulled at the strap of her 19 carat wristwatch, thinking longingly of her warm, inviting bed; her waiting husband.
“Sorry to bother you but I was wondering about Alice Hanson. The Diazepam's getting her off to sleep but she's getting these nightmares now and they seem to be increasingly the anxiety and paranoia. I'm wondering whether it's best to consider a different drug for her? She's still got that cold as well, don't suppose that's helping her mental state. ”
The psychiatrist leaned back against his black leather chair. He picked up his blue Biro, chewing its already wrinkled stump. Glancing down, he pulled back the sleeve of his jacket to check his own watch.
“Hmm..yeah...quite possibly needs something else...I'm going off duty shortly so I'll look in on her on the way out. I've got her review coming up so we can assess it then. Keep on monitoring her and keep me informed.”
Kate went to the staffroom to get a coffee.
...

Darkness pressed against the window.
Alice's thoughts drifted to her parents. Her father. Remnants of putrid, slurred breath; stinging skin from the heavy metal belt; the words“devil's spawn” ringing in her ears.
The blanket lay heavy on her chest. If only she'd been good. Listened to him. And mum. They wouldn't care where she was now. She deserved to be trapped there.
It was all her fault.
She remembered the first glimpse of Matthew behind the beer fountains; his iron-clad grip; the chunky muscles; the hungry look in his blue eyes. Finally a life she embraced: streams of perfumed flowers; boozy nights watching porn; slumping in the shadows of the cinema; their feet jamming together on the dance floor.
Her parents had warned her. She was evil, could never hide it.
And Matthew had known.
He tried to make her clean. Those thick-iced, pit-like baths.
Alice scrunched her knees tighter into her chest, ignoring the flash of pain from her bruises. One day she'd refused, making Matthew do terrible things. She shuddered, remembering his once- tender eyes raving across her body; his razor punches on her skin. Silver at her throat.
Then it happened.
Heinous energy burst from her.
She tore at the knife and his skin. Shocked, he'd fallen back, smacking the wall. Scarlet stains on cream tiles.
She was still cleaning when the police and ambulance showed up.
They wouldn't even let her finish. It was the least she could do.

...

She swallowed hard, sending sore after-shocks down back of her throat. Maybe she should have that drink after all. She pushed the blanket aside and sat up, reaching out for the abandoned cup by her bed.
She stretched her legs over the side of her bed and tip toed across the icy floor over to the sink in the corner of the room. She gave the tap a sharp twist. The water trickled out at first, then gushed into the cup. The liquid flooded the rim, then she raised it to her mouth.
She drank quickly, gasping, her blocked nose preventing her from breathing as she gulped down the contents. A cold shiver sliced through her body. She slammed down the cup and went quickly back to her bed, her body dissolving into the warm sheets.
Then she heard the intrusive drip drip. She couldn't get out and tighten it. Too bitterly cold.
Dizziness attacked her, forcing her further beneath the covers. Her eyelids clammed shut as fat heartbeats thrust through her chest. Words froze in her throat; only a small moan escaped as she fought against Sleep.
A figure drew close. He wore jeans and a black T-shirt. His image was muddy, distorted.
“I've come to say goodbye, Alice...”
Pain pushed against her eyes, forcing the first droplets of tears to escape. He would never leave her alone.
...

Fifteen minutes later, Kate heard s scream. A man's scream. Not unusual in her workplace. But something about this scream unsettled her. Didn't feel right.
She jumped from the seat in the staffroom, spilling streaks of brown coffee down the front of her overall. Sprinting into the corridor, she collided with a quivering figure who she took a few seconds to place as her boss. He slumped against her, face as pale as the hospital walls. His hands clutched either side of his head, his eyes thick with shock.
“Wh-what happened?!” Kate stammered, terror hurtling through her muscles. Unable to hold his weight she stepped backwards. Her boss sank towards the floor, head in hands.
The other night duty nurses oozed out of a nearby room, horror etched on their faces.
Like a witness to a fatal accident, Kate was drawn in with lead, robotic steps.
Nausea overcame her; she turned to vomit.
The bed was submerged in what looked like water. Liquid from the bedside cabinet was dripping onto the floor, making dirty puddles around the bed.
Alice Hanson was in the centre of her bed. Only her head and shoulders were apparent; most of her body seemed to have dissolved. The tips of her fingers were just visible above the surface of the water, evident of a struggle to hold onto the bed. Tiny ripples ran across the sheets, adding to the pools on the floor. Her hair was stringy and drenched, her eyes open wide with horror, and her face was already starting to turn a deep shade of lifeless blue.