Status: Ongoing (and hopefully finished by the end of today)

The Day I Went Crazy

A Dream?

I woke up the next morning in my bed, my sister next to me. Mom was pounding on the bedroom door, shouting “Get up! It’s already 7 o’clock! Time to go to school!”

I jumped up from my seat. “What? Where? Who was—“

I met my mom’s unimpressed gaze.

“Get up, Dang,” she said for a final time before walking out of the room.

I sat there on the bed for a moment. Wasn’t I just at the—? But then how was—?

“Hey Mom!” I called after her.


“Wasn’t I at the hospital last night?”

There was a short pause.

“What are you TALKING about?”

I hesitated. Must’ve been a dream then.

I got out of bed, shaking Becca lightly to get her up.

“Hey, Bikachu,” I said softly, calling her by the her Pokemon nickname. “Get up. It’s already seven.”

Becca groaned, then yawned groggily. I proceeded to get ready for school.

“What were you talking about earlier?” she asked, still sitting on the bed with one eye closed.

“What?” I mumbled sleepily, combing my hair.

“About hospitals. What kind of dream were you HAVING?” she laughed.

I laughed with her. “I don’t know. Now that I think about it, I can’t really remember much.”


I gathered my books and backpack on my desk, then stopped for a minute.

“Hey Becca.”


“What day is it?”

“Wednesday. We have a Sociology test today.”

I stared at her. “You’re kidding right?”

She stared back. “What did you forget?”

“No, I thought today was Thursday.”

She went back to getting ready. “Well, it’s Wednesday.”

I kicked the back of my left leg. “Shoot. I didn’t finish those two essays yet.”

Becca didn’t bother stopping to talk. “What are you talking about now?”

“ I mean those papers that were due in Sociology and Anthropology today. I didn’t finish them yet.”

She shot me a quick glance that spoke that silently repeated her last words.

“What’s that look for?”

“Aren’t those your papers right there?” she said, pointing next to my binder.

I skimmed the stack of white paper.

“What in the…” I held my essays in my hand in bewilderment. “I swear, Becca, I did not write these yet.”

She glanced over my shoulder. “While modeled after the American system, education in Japan dictates not only the futures of individual students, but also determines the structure of the modern Japanese family…” Becca read over my shoulder. “Sounds like your essay to me. You probably just forgot you wrote them because you’re not getting enough sleep. Or maybe you dreamed you didn’t do them.” She laughed.

I rubbed the throbbing headache that was beginning to form in my temple. “If that’s true, then what a nightmare.”

We left the house for school at around 7:30 am, arrive about ten minutes later, and went through English and Pre-Calculus. During Lunch, I curled up in a corner and slept, using three friends’ jackets for blankets. Fifteen minutes before the bell rang, I went to the bathroom and fixed my hair in the mirror reflection. The Sociology test was a breeze. I checked my e-mails between powerpoint slides during Anthropology, so Mr. Samson jokingly asked if I was looking at porn, sending the class into an uproar. Last period was cancelled because the teacher was sick, so my classmates and I sat on the benches outside as we waited for our parents to pick us up. Half of us discussed the sociology test, the other test who talking about who-knows-what. Mom picked Rebecca and I up a few minutes later, and stopped by a gas station. Becca was the one to go inside and pay. As we drove home, I talked about my day with Becca.

“Today was kinda… weird, don’t you think?”

“Really? I thought it was fun.”

“No, I mean, didn’t it feel like we already did everything already?”

Becca thought about it for two seconds. “ You mean like déjà vu?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Kinda.”

“Nope,” she answered blatantly.

I laughed. Yeah, I must have just been imagining things today.

At home, I dropped everything on the floor and flopped flat on my bed, intending to go immediately to sleep. My plan was interrupted when I sneezed and blew snot all over my sweater, grossing my sister and requiring myself to change tops. I changed into a short-sleeve, then noticed something peculiar on my left arm.

A purple dot just above the big vein a few inches down from the wrist.

A purple dot… like the bruise left behind from a needle. From an IV.

I screamed.
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I hate it when author's do this to their stories, and then actually make it dejavu. Of course, that's because i hate cliches. >__<
For some reason, I keep wanting to say, I hate the Asian bunnny. I really ought to go to sleep soon.

BTW, this is the last chapter of my English assignment, but I WILL be continuing this for my writing pleasure (and yours too). Future chapters WILL be sci-fi, not just supernatural, I promise!