Dreams

“Alright Miss Jones, you need to take one tablet once a day right before bed for two months. Check in here at the center every two weeks so we can monitor the effects and a refill,” A doctor whose name I had forgotten since the first time we met stated as she handed me an average orange prescription bottle with no label on it and slip of paper with instructions printed on it.
“Oh, and you will receive your payment after your very last check-in.”
I nodded in understanding and agreement and made my way towards the exit of the examination room of the FDA research center. I had just willingly volunteered to test a new drug on my body and mind for two months for a payment of twenty thousand dollars. At first, I was skeptical; the doctors and researchers didn’t tell us what we were taking and with the knowledge that this drug may cause hallucinations and lucid dreaming, I was gonna reject the idea. However, when they waved the money in my face I quickly accepted. Working three jobs doesn’t really get student loans paid off despite saving money by living in rundown apartment.
The blinding sunlight dazed me for a seconds once I stepped foot outside. I looked at my watch and sighed. If I can run five blocks in five minutes, then I’ll catch the bus if it’s not early. I pushed a hand back through my raven black locks and then broke out into a sprint down the street. Once I made it to the fourth block, I could hear the distinct sound of a New York City public bus. The bus zoomed past me almost choking me on the thick, black fumes it left behind. I pushed myself harder when it pulled to the curb. I didn’t quite slow down as I run up to the three measly steps and nearly fell face first. I gave the driver my bus ticket and whispered a ‘Thank you for waiting.’
I made my way to the back of the bus, plopping down in an empty two-seater. Living on the other side of the city meant that the bus ride was gonna take about two hours or so. I stared out the window at the passing scenery pondering my decisions at got me here.
“Excuse me, miss,” my head shot open and I turned to the person next to me. An elderly man with salt and pepper hair smiled at me, “You don’t want to miss your stop.”
My gaze moved to the window and realized my stop was the next one. How did he know that? I turned back to him and he just smiled while I stared at him wide eyed. The little bell signaling a stop requested rang and I excused myself before making my way to the rear door of the bus. Maybe it’s just a coincident that he woke me up right before my stop. The bus pulled up to the curb and I exited the bus without a look back. After mentally preparing myself for the long, agonizing fifteen block walk to my apartment in a dirty, pest infested neighborhood, I adjusted the strap to my bag and commenced walking.
After about the fifth boarded up house I zoned out with only the sound the loud barking of the dog next door to my apartment snapping me out of my daze. I did this every time on my way home, looking at the junkies, ex-inmates, and father-less children travel through the neighborhood always deeply saddened me and I wouldn’t be able to get any sleep. I unlocked the front door and made my way inside. After locking the door behind me I looked around my small one bedroom apartment, which was unfortunately occasionally the home of a few rats and cockroaches as well. The living room held nothing but an old couch and a table whose legs had been duct taped to keep it standing. The kitchen had a barely functioning refrigerator and microwave; the cabinets falling apart at the hinges and the window above the sink had been boarded up some for some reason. Everything was dingy and slightly dirty in the bathroom despite my perpetual attempts at getting rid of the grime. Shaking my head, I trudged to my bedroom. The bedroom was the only decent room in the whole apartment. The fairly new black furniture that my parents had given me as a gift sat in one corner of the room with tattered sheets. I had painted the walls a sky blue, to match the bits of sky blue I saw out my window above my bed, and covered every hole from the floor to ceiling. I tossed my bad on my dresser and stripped down to my underwear and got in bed. I quickly hopped back out of bed and rummaged through my bag in search of the unlabeled orange prescription bottle. I twisted off the top and popped a little white pill in my mouth. After jumping back in bed, I tossed and turned a bit to get comfortable and then settled for sleep to take over.
I smacked my hand down on the alarm clock that unfortunately woke the dog next door as well. It barked throughout my thirty minute morning rituals of showering, getting dressed, brushing my teeth, and doing hair. I grabbed my keys of the small table in the living room and began the long travel to my first job. I was locking the front door when I realized that I had a dreamless sleep. This routine continued for about seven weeks only being disrupting by the mandatory check-in cross town at the FDA research center. I actually starting dreaming during the third week of taking the drug; my dreams were simple nothing to really talk about. For instance, one of my dreams was about eating breakfast on a beach while watching the sun rise. When I informed the FDA researchers they stated that to their knowledge this is normal in the beginning stages of the drug. After two weeks of seemingly meaningless, random dreams, the nightmares began.
They were just about things that were scary in general. For example, the first nightmare I had was about me being sprinting through the woods with the knowledge that there was ax-wielding manic hot on my tail. I informed the researchers of this new development as well and they were perplexed. They advised me to continue taking the drugs as usual.
It was the fiftieth day I was consuming the drug. The paranoia had already begun to take over after about five weeks ago. It felt as though every sound was the sound of someone trying to get me. The bus ride to my first job felt it took eons! I kept thinking that everyone who got on the bus wanted to do harm to me and those who sat next to me were going to suddenly pull me off the bus to interrogate me. Work wasn’t better. My morning job is as a waitress in a very popular restaurant in the upper class neighborhood. It felt like everybody was staring at me out the corner of their eyes and we they did make eye contact with me I could see their plans to get me. A customer walked into the restaurant and immediately made their way to me. Tremors took over my body; my palms became sweaty and my eyes snapped shut as I began to panic. He was coming to get me and take me away from everything that I know! When he accidently bumped into me as he attempted to pass, I freaked out and an ear piercing screech escaped my lips. After a few moments of deafening silence, I cracked one eye open to see everyone in the entire restaurant staring at me; they were all silently planning my demise. My boss made his way to me and rested his hand on my shoulder.
“I think you should take the rest of the day of, give me the numbers of your other bosses and I’ll let them know that you shouldn’t be working today,” he stated to me with a spurious look of sympathy that I could see masked the planning look everyone had. I brushed his hand off, quickly gathered my things and made my way home.
As soon as I walked through the front door, I sprinted to my room and crawled to the head of the bed. I sat with my back up against the wall. Rocking back and forth calm me down a bit just enough so that I could get a short nap. I blinked once and then suddenly my room was teeming with spiders. They crawled from under the bedroom door, filling up every inch of the gritty floor and headed towards me. Soon spiders were crawling on the wall and the ceiling to get to me. The second the first spider crawled up my foot, I shook it vigorously and screeched a sound that would make ear drums bleed. It you haven’t already noticed I have a very severe case of arachnophobia. My eyes snapped shut as the spiders made through way up my pant legs; each one of them sinking their venomous fangs into my soft flesh. The venom that spread though me made me feel as though there were a million razorblades all over my body, right under the skin slicing up my muscles, and organs. My eyes slipped shut as I took my last ragged breath.
I shot up in the stiff bed shaking with sweat dripping off my body. In the silence of the mental institution, suddenly hearing the voice of my roommate made me jump ten feet high.
“Another nightmare?” she asked I nodded and took a deep breath, “What as it this time?”
“Spiders,” I replied simply. I didn’t have to go into detail about my dream with her because she was the only person that wasn’t out to get me; she was the sole person I could trust. She understood that every single time that I fell asleep I would relive the days that I consumed the unknown poison and continued to do so even when the nightmares, and paranoia commenced. However, I only relived my first hallucinations, yet it was different every time. Last night, my first hallucination was about being burned alive in perdition; the night before that my first hallucination was about . The funny thing is that I don’t remember what my actual first hallucination that sent me to the mental hospital. Yet, I dream about it every night. Despite it being my dreams, I had no control whatsoever. None of my actions before the hallucination ever change, only my hallucination, leaving me to wake trembling, drenched in sweat, and in fear for the last five years. I never feared my nightmares; I feared the possibility that the night I sleep peacefully will be the night I won’t wake up.