Shattered (Continuation of: The Chase) ▹ Ashton Irwin

Chapter Forty Four

"What the hell...?" I breathed, squinting my eyes and looking around. I figured that if I narrowed my eyes, I would be able to focus on something, but there was still not a single object or person in my field of view. This darkness felt fake to me, like none of this was the actual real world. I grew puzzled and distraught, wondering where the hell I was.

I didn't feel tired, and I would assume that I had recieved the full amount of sleep I was hoping for. I didn't go out the night before, and I remembered falling asleep very easily. So then...why is it still nighttime? Why isn't it the morning yet? It sure feels like it should be at least past 9:00 AM on Saturday morning...so why is it so dark and odd around me? I should be waking up right about now, right?

Well...unless I'm dreaming.

"Shit." I muttered. I'm dreaming, I have to be.

I sat back and looked around again, feeling the muscles in my stomach start to churn. If this was a dream, then I'm scared. Me and my dreams haven't been the best of friends lately, and everytime I do have a dream it's never really pleasant. I would usually go drown the bad dream with some alcohol, and that would calm me down perfectly. Actually, that sounds very nice right now, but I unfortunately felt guled to where I was and unable to get up. I didn't even feel like I was in my own home, for crying out loud. I watched the blackness out in front of me, waiting and anticipating for something terrifying to pop out or more voices to crowd my brain to jolt me out of whatever was going on.

I shut my eyes and vigorously shook my head, trying to wake myself up. But I couldn't. From the numerous and countless nights that I have dreamt about the unknown, I was never able to wake myself up physically. I would have to wait for something bad to happen, and then I would finally wake up sweating and shaking. Maybe even crying, it all depends. Just like most of the time, I'll cry like a little bitch.

"You are a little bitch." a voice said. My heart stopped and my eyes widened, but no one was there when I glanced around. Absolutely no one was here, and I was alone.

"Wh-what?" I stuttered, still searching for where that voice came from. I hate it when this happens in real life, and now it's here in a stupid dream.

"I said you're a little bitch," the voice said again. "A real coward, actually."

I sat back and stared off into the distant darkness, still searching for just something to look at. I'm upset that I couldn't see anything, but I surely didn't feel alone anymore.

"What...what do you mean?" I asked, fearful of what was exactly going on. "Who are you?"

"That's a brilliant question, Brooke."

"...Well then...can you p-please answer it?" I didn't like sounding so weak, but I was too clueless to try and act confident.

"I can't really answer that myself," the voice replied. "I could be a lot of things. A lot of people."

I was hesitant and quiet for a few moments. I can now conclude that this is definitely a dream, for nothing felt entirely real. My situation felt like a figment of my imagination, but the feelings of confusion and fear were all pretty realistic.

"...Okay." I said lamely.

"Really, okay?" the voice asked, followed by a laugh. "Everything is okay?"

"I...I didn't-"

"Everything is okay to you, isn't it?" it said to me. The voice was low, but just as sincere and frightening as how it usually is. "Everything is just fucking dandy in Brooke's world."