For a full week, I’d had little to no sleep. Everything seemed to be going great after staying a couple of nights at Nick’s house, but not anymore. People at the small college I attended even asked me if I had been sick—like, deathly ill—so, apparently, the stress wasn’t just taking a toll on me mentally, but physically, too.

The second night at Nick’s came and went with almost no activity at all, as well as the next few days; then all hell broke loose again. Of course, I’d have to be at school when it did.

It had started out like any other day. I was almost late to my first class, causing Mr. Vick to give me the stink-eye as I walked in and sat down at my usual seat near the back. Then I met up with my friend, Alyssa, afterward, where we walked to our second class together. After that, I had a break, which was when I’d use the restroom and eat a snack before my last class of the day. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, which actually felt pretty great, until I went to use the bathroom.

Like always, I took the long way around to waste some time and stopped at the bathrooms near the gym, which happened to be connected to the locker rooms. They were never crowded, which was the main reason I used those instead of the ones closer to my next class, so I wasn’t surprised to find them empty. I went into the stall on the very end, the one closest to the locker room side, which was the one I always used, thinking of how monotonous I was. That’s when I heard a noise.

It sounded like one of the showers, so I assumed I wasn’t as alone as I’d thought I was and didn’t think much of it. But after a mere five seconds or so, it shut off. I listened for movement, maybe someone opening or shutting one of the curtains, but didn’t hear anything… until the water cut back on again.

This time, it didn’t shut off, so I assumed someone had just come in to shower. As I walked out of the stall, however, I realized I was wrong. The showers were in the next room, lining the back wall, and the second one from the left was full of steam, but not a person. I stepped into the entryway to the locker room, looking around for signs of someone—anyone—but it was totally empty.

It was at that moment that the lights went out, plunging me into total darkness. Being in a bathroom, in the dark, yet again, reminded me too much of the asylum. I could hear my heart thudding loudly over the water running, pounding in my ears. I turned to run, hoping I was heading in the right direction, and realized I was when I hit the door at full speed, busting my nose against the metal. I reached down to grab the handle, but, like before, the door wouldn’t open.

I felt around for the light, surprised that it came on when I flipped the switch. I tried the door again, but it wouldn’t budge. It was then I noticed the water wasn’t running anymore. At this point, I didn’t really care; I wanted out.

I knew there was another door that led out to the gym, but it was through the locker room, and I felt much better standing in the corner by this door. That is, until all the sinks next to me turned on.

I bolted for the other door, hoping it would open, but as soon as I entered the locker room, the lights went out again. Caught by surprise, I forgot about the benches, which were securely bolted to the floor. The first one clipped my legs, causing pain to tear through my knees as I went head first over it. Apparently, the second bench stopped my fall, but I don’t remember much of that part, since it knocked me out cold. The only thing I remember is feeling like I was thrown into battle, having my knees blown up right before I was shot in the head, which ended it all.

I woke up in an ambulance, wondering how I was going to explain this one.

***

As I laid in my hospital bed, appearing to be asleep, I tried to think of what I was going to tell my mom and dad, but my mind didn’t seem to want to think about anything. My thoughts, like my body, felt heavy, even though they also felt like they were floating. I never could understand why people wanted to get high and paid so much money to feel like this. I hated it.

Being loaded down with pain killers, I knew Mom wouldn’t question me too much, and if she did, I could shut my eyes and she’d think I’d gone back to sleep. The way I felt, maybe I would. There was only one way to tell, so I let my eyes, or shall I say eye, flutter open.

My right eye was the only one that would open, and it hurt to try to force my left one, so I didn’t. With the one eye, I could see that Dad was sitting in a chair by my bed, or at least I assumed that was him, since I could only see his shoes and the newspaper he was holding. Mom was standing near the foot of my bed, drinking a cup of coffee as she stared out the window. I started to shut my eye and go back to sleep, but Mom caught me looking at her.

“Amber.” She sat her coffee down on the window ledge and walked around to the right side of my bed, opposite Dad. “Oh, honey.” She bent down and gently touched my right cheek, which didn’t hurt, so I assumed that side of my face was okay. “How are you feeling?” I shrugged my shoulders, which hurt… hurt really bad. “Try not to move.”

I started to nod my head but was afraid. “What happened?”

Her face looked as pained as I felt. “Well, the basketball coach said she heard a loud noise in the locker room as she was walking by and went in to see what it was, and found you lying on the floor. Oh, if she hadn’t been walking by….”

“Calm down,” Dad said. “Don’t go getting her all upset.”

“I’m not. I’m just thankful she’s okay.”

I was okay? It sure didn’t feel like it, even with the pain medicine. “What happened?” I asked again.

Mom gave Dad a concerned look. “I just told you, honey. You fell… and the coach found you.”

Oh, yeah. I fell over the bench trying to get out. “The door was… locked or jammed or something… I couldn’t get out.” I heard my heart monitor start to beep faster as I remembered, giving my racing heart away. “I went to go out the other door… the lights went out… I tripped.” I’m glad I was able to think through the medicine enough to omit some of the truth, yet still give them just enough. “I don’t remember anything after that.”

“Of course you don’t. You hit your head pretty hard.” She made a face like she didn’t want to tell me the next part, but did, anyway. “You broke your orbital bone.” She looked at the left side of my face and cringed. “And you’ll have to see an eye specialist as soon as the swelling goes down enough to make sure you don’t have a—what did they call it?” she asked, looking at Dad.

“Retinal detachment,” he replied. “And you re-fractured your clavicle.”

“Oh, yes. Your collarbone will take longer to heal now. But other than that, and some swollen and bruised up knees, you’re okay.”

My knees. “Yeah, I banged them against the bench, which is why I fell.”

Mom sat down on the edge of my bed. “Well, you’re here and they’re going to make sure you stay comfortable through the night.”

“I have to stay?”

She laughed, like my whining was somehow funny. “Yes, you’ve got a concussion.”

“Yeah,” Dad added, leaning against my bed, “and if you could see your face you wouldn’t want to go anywhere at all.”

It felt like it was two or three times the size it should be, so I could only imagine how it looked. “Can I get an extra pillow, then?” I asked, thinking that might make my concrete slab of a mattress more comfortable.

“Sure, honey. I’ll have them give you some more pain medicine, too, if you need it.”

My head and face were throbbing, so I told her I needed it. As soon as the words left my lips, nausea swept over me. Thankfully, I had one of those kidney-shaped things on the table by my bed, which Mom quickly grabbed and jammed under my chin. It was way too small, which Dad must’ve realized, so he got something else that was the same shade of mauve, but bigger, and replaced the kidney bowl. When I was finished puking my guts out, which Mom said was from my concussion, she got a wet rag and laid on my forehead, which hurt my face, but I left it.

“How are we doing?” a strange, high-pitched voice asked, but I didn’t open my eyes or answer her.

“She’s feeling a bit nauseated,” Mom told her. “Could you give her something for it when you give her the pain medication?”

“Oh, I can see that,” she said, probably inspecting my puke bowl. “Sure, I’ll talk to her doctor and give her some Phenergan or something to help.” She checked my blood pressure and temperature before walking out, letting Mom know she’d be back in a few minutes.

As soon as the nurse was gone, so was I, falling into a deep sleep. Whether it was drug-induced, or I was just tired, I don't know, but it led to me dreaming about things I didn't want to dream about. Thankfully, the nurse woke me back up when she returned to give me my medicine, not trying to be quiet, even though I’m sure she saw me sleeping. As glad as I was that she’d pulled me out of my scary dreams of crazy people and long hallways inside that stupid asylum, I was also ticked that she was so rude, not caring that she’d woken me up.

“I’m going to put this in your IV, and when it goes in, it may burn a bit or feel hot,” she said loudly, like I was hard of hearing.

I’d hurt my face, not my ears. But as she started putting the medicine in my IV, I didn’t care about her or her loud mouth anymore. My arm was on fire.

As it started to spread through me, I heard her talking with Mom, or whoever was listening, which wasn’t me, and it sounded like she was far off now, like she was yelling from the other end of the room. It was like I could see her gliding further and further away, out of my room and down the hall.

No, I was in the hall. But it wasn’t the brightly lit hall that I knew was outside my room. Instead, it was a dark, empty hall that was decrepit, with bits of the walls and ceiling scattered around on the dirty floor where they’d fallen.

The nurse’s voice got softer and softer as she got further and further away, and before I knew it, she was gone, leaving silence in her wake. I was suddenly scared, realizing that I was lying in my bed in this scary hallway, unable to move. When I heard a distant noise, I looked down the long, abandoned hallway, realizing exactly what hallway it was—the one from the top floor of the asylum.

It was then that I saw her, standing completely still at the far end, the shadow of an ax resting on the floor beside her. “Crazy, crazy... that's what they say….”

I could barely hear her, but knew exactly what she was singing. I felt myself shiver as a cold chill spread through me, despite the blankets that still covered me, which I wanted to tug up over my head, but I still couldn’t move.

“Psycho, insane... they won't go away.” I watched her, too afraid to look away, and thought I saw her take a step toward me, but she was still so far away, it was hard to tell. “Voices, voices... inside my head.”

Yes, she was definitely getting closer, her faint song growing louder with each step she took. I felt tears sting the left side of my face, burning my eye, but couldn’t stop them from coming.

“I can't hear them... if they're all dead.” And then she disappeared.

As scared as I was watching her come closer and closer to my bed, dragging her ax behind her, it didn’t compare to the fear I felt not being able to see her at all. At least when I could see her, I knew where she was.

As if reading my mind, I was immediately made aware of where she was as my bed began to slowly rock back and forth. She was under it.

“One chop, two chop, three chop, four,” she continued to sing, shaking my bed more violently with each word. “One after one they all… hit… the… floor.” With the last words she sang, my bed shook so violently that by the time she said ‘floor’, I was crashing into it.

I knew she was there, since I could feel her hands clawing at my legs, but still couldn’t move. So, instead of running away, or even crawling, all I could do was lie there and watch as she clawed her way up my legs and over my body. I could smell her putrid breath as she laughed in my face, running her ax blade across my swollen cheek.

“Yessss,” she hissed. “I’m for sure keeping you.” The last thing I saw was the blade of her ax being pulled back and swung at my head.

A scream filled my ears, causing them to feel like they might burst. It then echoed down the hall and through my head, then down the hall again, back and forth for what felt like forever. I reached up and grabbed the sides of my head, hoping that would keep it from exploding, since that’s what it felt like was about to happen.

I felt her hands grabbing at me again, shaking me, but I no longer felt like trying to run away. If I’d had a white flag, I’d have waived it at her, letting her know I’d surrendered. I was too tired to fight anymore. I would never be able to get away. Never.

You can have me. Keep me. Whatever. Just do it. Get it over with. Just do it. Just do it….

The scream faded into a voice, and after a few seconds, I could tell that whatever it was saying, it was pleading with me. It was still at the other end of the hall, so I couldn’t make out the words. As it got closer, I let go of my head so I could try to make out what was being said.

“Amber!” Mom was gently shaking me.

“Just do it?” I heard my dad say. “What is she dreaming about? A Nike commercial?”

“Wake up, you’re having a bad dream.” When I opened my eye, she was standing over my bed. “You’re okay,” she reassured me. “It was a dream.”

When I turned my head to look at her, my hair fell across my shoulder, and I smelled that same, putrid smell that Eleanor had breathed on me. I knew, then, that she was wrong. It may have all happened in my head, but it was far from a dream.

Sadly, the nightmare my life had officially become would continue... and by this time next week, it would be much, much worse.