Dancing on glass

Prologue

Can't find my doctor
My bones can't take this ache
If ya dance with the devil
Your day will come to pay

Downtown
Fuel-injected dreams
Are busting at the seams
Am I in Persia
Or am I just insane?

Downtown, downtown

One foot in the grave
Such a foolish child
For a date with death
Sign the dotted line

I've been thru hell
And I'm never goin' back

To Dancing on Glass

Going way too fast
Gonna burn and crash
Valentine's in London
Found me in the trash
Downtown
[Mötley Crüe - Dancing on glass]

It was the most vivid dream he'd ever had. A bright light shining right into his eyes that was almost blinding. A figure in white stepped in front of it; it felt wrong. He wanted all the light for himself. He made a annoyed grunting noise and reached out a hand to slap away whoever was standing in his way. A hand grabbed his arm and pinned it down hard and it hurt way more than it should have. He yelped and struggled against the hold. More hands were on him, pinning him down to the cold surface he was lying on. He felt so confused- why was his bed so hard? And what were all these figures doing here trying to steal his light?

He tried to tell them 'No', to tell them to stop but his throat had gone dry and he couldn't get the smallest sound out. When he felt a strap of some sort on his wrist panic set in and he started to struggle, swinging at air, hoping to hit one of them. Finally he fell and his head hit cold tiles- it felt like his skull cracked open. His gut was churning and his skin was on fire. He tried to suck in some air through quick rapid breaths- each hurting more than the last. He didn't understand. You shouldn't be able to feel any pain in your dreams, right?

What was happening to him? Why couldn't they just leave him and his light be. He needed it. Again those hands were on him, lifting him back onto the cold surface. And then something just snapped. The light began to fade as he felt the fire on his skin grow cold, but it didn't stop burning. It hurt- every inch, molecule and atom of his being were in pain.

"He's going into shock, have the crash cart ready"

Who's going into shock? And who'd put a fucking crash cart in his room?

He tried to move his body, to struggle against the restraints but he couldn't move a muscle. He tried to find the light again but it was all but gone, and he felt himself fall backwards into darkness