I walk in to the hospital and sit in an old waiting room chair. I hate waiting rooms. Ever since my brother passed away, I've never liked them.
When I was 12, my brother got very sick. He had a disease called Cystic Fibrosis. He had had it all of his life. But at the age of 15 it started acting up. 16 he was on the lung transplant list. And 17 he was in ICU for 3 months. Waiting for those lungs that would never come.
I had spent many times in the hospital with him. Even before he was really sick, he had frequent hospital visits.
Waiting rooms bring back these bad memories. The smell, the chairs, the over all feel. Every now and then I see a person, or couple, crying. And I rink about the day they told us....
"Emily go on back."
I grab my stuff and start to head back to the room. I start thinking. What if he puts me in an asylum? What if I'm an experiment? What if. What if. What if.
YOU ARE READING
Dreamers
General FictionEmily is scared of sleep. When she sleeps she's sucked into a terrible dream. This re occurring nightmare could be more then just in her head. As she tries to find out what's wrong, she meets a group of people who might be able to help her.
