The alarm wasn't supposed to go off yet. Somethings not right. I haven't even been to sleep yet. I literally just laid down. It's like I blinked and now it's 7 hours later. The sound is obnoxious. But where is my alarm clock? Where is it coming from? It's not even plugged in. What is happening? It's nowhere in my room. I wander out to the hall. It's getting louder. That's a good sign. But the walls look different. They are stretching and bending and getting longer. It's empty. White walls with a blinking overhead light. Right with the beat of the alarm. The beat is not singular. It's a pattern. Like Morse code, or music. I step forward. Everything flashes, blood slashed and smeared on the walls. I step back. Everything flashes back to its neat and tidy state. I step forward again. Blood everywhere. And the alarm beeps more violently. One more step. The stench is overwhelming. And this isn't my house. Where's the stairs? Why do I hear moaning, like a dying cat? Where am I? I enter a doorway, to find empty hospital beds. But not just any hospital beds. An Asylum. What is this place? I continue further down the hall, of this seemingly ghost town of a building. I turn the corner at the end of the hall, noticing my gown has snagged on a broken Crack in the door. I'm wearing a hospital gown. I'm wearing a hospital tag. It's the correct name. I am still me. I unhook myself. I keep going. I find the source of the moans. Someone is trapped underneath a fallen cabinet. I try to budge it free. They grab my foot, as if to claw me towards them. I step back. I look closely. This is not a regular human, but a monster. With skin melting and peeling off of their bones. Zombies? This must be a dream, I remind myself. I've fallen asleep, and now I'm dreaming. Eventually I'll wake up, and get back to... I'll get back to... I can't even remember my real life. I don't remember my house. I don't remember my family. I don't remember my job. I must be that far deep into sleeping. But the beeping is still present. I need to find it. I keep moving. But literally there is Noone here. Just empty rooms, blood, and bodies trapped in a state of decay. Reaching and moaning for help. And the beeping. And the blinking. But I've reached the end of this hall. I need to go back. I need to get clothes. Maybe I'm supposed to leave the building. I reenter my room. I open the drawer. My clothes are there. I also find a photo album. Clues. Maybe this is a guide out of this nightmare. I flip through the pages, and notice my skin is not the same complexion as it is in real life. Drier. Older. I look in the mirror. I'm older. I have Grey spots. Darker eyes. This is a weird dream. I review the pictures. I notice the familiar face of my real life. I start to remember my husband. I start to remember my children. And as the pictures reflect an older unfamiliar version of me - I start to remember more. I start to remember things I don't remember, because it never happened. I remember the divorce. I remember my kids leaving home. I remember the new house. I remember the new husband. I remember the fighting. I remember leaving him. I remember falling back in love with the first. I remember the grandkids. I remember weddings. I remember him laying there dying. How do I remember what hasn't happened? The beeping stops. The blood has disappeared. "Good morning Miss Evelyn! You're up early this morning!" I turn to see a nurse entering with a tray of breakfast. As if this is a normal place, a normal day, as if she knows me. I question her directly, "Where am I? Why am I here? I want to go home!" She saddens, and softly takes my hand, "I know Miss Evelyn. You remind me of that every time I come to wake you in the morning. Let's have some breakfast for now. Chloe is coming to see you today! She is bringing little Jason with her! Do you remember him?" Jason. A great grandson. The one with the bright gold hair. I do remember. But this doesn't feel right. This hasn't happened yet. What is happening to me? I eat my toast. The nurse turns on the television. We have a black president? The world really is changing! Now look at me, believing this dream is real. Chloe has poked her head in. Immediately, I need answers! "Chloe, honey, what is happening to me?!" She is kind, and inquisitive with her response, "You had the alarm dream again?" I nod, and continue to explain I'm still dreaming, I want to go home. She gives me an empathetic smile. "I know Grandma. I know. This feels strange, and new, and overwhelming." A tear glistens her honest eyes. "Grandma, do you remember speaking to Dr. Murray? The one with a big red nose, like santa?" Vaguely. I remember he tried to wink at me like I was his next girlfriend waiting to happen. "Grandma, you are suffering from Alzheimers. You tend to forget what has happened, everytime you sleep, you go back to the moment you were most happy. With Grandpa." It all comes racing back. It's overwhelming. I'm losing my breath. My hearts racing. I'm panicking. The nurse excuses Chloe, and as she waves good bye, I am laid back into bed, to calm down. I'm feeling sleepy. The alarm returns. I am back in my bed. My husband is next to me. Gently snoring, smiling his sweet, loving smile as he dreams about our first date. I am young again. I am home. I cuddle up next to him, and wrap his arms around me. But very quickly, I go unplug that damn alarm. I sink in next to him. He kisses my cheek. I close my eyes, as a new beep starts going off. Beep. Beep. Beep. Slower and slower. Beeeeeeeep.&nbsp;

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The Dream

EvonyJade

Shyanne Ordiway

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The Dream

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