My name is Adam. First of all this started of with the fact me and my mother were going on a day trip the next day because a new film studio had opened up a few hours from our town, it was publicly open because the film series had finished and all the props and sets were no longer needed. My mother had promised to wake me up early in the morning so that we could get a headstart before the deadline time of the opening.
It all happened the very night. Imagine the setting, if you look to your left there's a chest of drawers and a door. I have my pet fish in a tank directly on top of the drawers, blocking only the middle section of the door from view. Anyhow, that night I had a dream that would haunt me for months to come.
All of my dreams are in some sense, realistic. I feel, hear, and sense. It seems weird but it's been this way since I was a kid. The door opened the next morning, supposedly. It was bright outside and as the door slowly swung open, nobody came in.
I was expecting my mother to come and shake the covers off me I smiled and turned my head on the pillow, directly towards the direction I did not want to be facing. I heard a strange thud and a banging along my bedroom floor, still no-one in sight. the noise came closer and closer until I saw it, the creature that lingered in my mind soon after.
It was a skinny, pale looking woman; clad in a hospital gown. she was completely bald, her face twisted in a motion of sadness, her hollow, black, penetrating eyes looked at me, her gaze was cold. colder than anything I could imagine. I was stricken with terror, my body rigid and unable to move. She came closer until she was level with my bed, her heavy breathing right next to me.
I was horrified, but felt pity at the same time. This creature was in agony. She climbed up my bed and rested her head on my chest. Her horrible eyes bored into my soul as she looked up at me, I was overcome with fear, screaming out, trying to thrash about in my the thing that comforted me the most. The woman began to whisper to me, unintelligible things, things I couldn't understand. Her voice was croaky, ice cold and depressed. I almost felt sorry for it. The next thing I knew it was over, but it wasn't.
I awoke in an unfamiliar place, the walls were damp and the wallpaper stripping from the ceilings. The floor was bare, just plain concrete, there were only two or three beds in this area and a sign hanging overhead at the exit, "Cane Hill, Jameson Ward". A door overlooked the eastern side of what I assumed was a hospital wing. a few tiled windows above it.
I suddenly heard it; that breathing. Cold as a typical winters day against my neck. The heavy, painful breathing accompanied by a presence. Someone else was in the bed. I was frozen, unable to move, unable to scream, I just watched as nurses rushed to and fro, opposite us was an old man who looked not a day over 80. His face was contorted with sadness and agony. This was a place were people came to die.
I looked next to me and a woman was thrashing about in her bed, her monitor was going berserk, lots of thin, black wires were hooked into the woman's body; I felt a twinge of sadness as the blaring of the system suddenly stopped and her eyelids fluttered, she went limp and i felt like i was about to cry.
It was over. It was morning. I woke up screaming, my body shaking furiously; I was sweating heaps and was extremely hot. I grabbed my alarm clock and sighed. I had woken up way before my parents. I was shaking and breathing heavily for the next five minutes or so, unable to shake the dream from my mind. My mind wandered back to the scene. "Jameson Ward", "Cane Hill"; I needed answers.
I grabbed my laptop from the bedside table next to me and typed in the following on my usual search engine. "Cane Hill Hospital". There were several results, but only one caught my eye. It was a newspaper article.
My mind eased as I scanned the page, taking in every little detail until I had the gist of it. Here's what I remember from it: "Cane Hill Hospital set to be demolished in the next month due to poor conditions and high number of casualties in the working year".
That was the headline. The main article consisted of pictures and reports of the closing and demolishing of the building. There was this one picture, that made my throat tighten and my feelings spiral down into sadness. The picture was of a woman, in her twenties or thirties.
She was bald, wore a hospital gown and had empty, shallow eyes. With her, were two children, a blonde boy and girl. The woman looked so happy, despite her condition. I instantly recognised her and knew, she had a family; She had feelings. All she wanted was somebody to be by her side.