Chapter 1: Death & dreamers

As many as these stories do, it started with my death. Coincidentally enough it was a somewhat cliche one you could say. I was very ill before I died and the hospital was like a second home to me. I wouldn't say that I had a feeling that day would be my last day on earth but when I closed my eyelids that night I felt something was wrong.

When I woke up I found myself lying in an uncomfortable straw bed. The room I was in was made out of wood and a lot of other people were sleeping in beds the same as mine. Some were snoring, others sleeptalking and in the very back I wasn't too sure if these silhouettes under the blanket were cuddling or doing something else.

Naturally, I wasn't too amused. The white room I was once in was now some unlit place … the posters of my favourite bands that I was kindly allowed to hang up weren't there, instead, the only thing you could look at was the old mouldy planks of wood.

There was one source of light, a small window. Whenever the wind blew the roof creaked. It was another of the many, quiet but subtle noises in the room. I wondered how people could sleep in these conditions. Not only did all the noises in the room together sound like an orchestra where the instruments had been forgotten to be tuned and the conductor had decided to not show up, but the place was also so narrow yet crowded that even though I wasn't claustrophobic I wished to be anywhere else but here. The air was so warm and dusty that it was hard to breathe, it felt heavy in my lungs.

Normally this would have been dangerous for me and I would've had to call the nurses but weirdly, despite my lungs hating every gravelly breath, I was fine. Talking about nurses the button to call them wasn't there, and neither was the heart monitor. Not having to see that annoying beeping machine would've made me the happiest person in the world but right now the unease I felt hit hard and I pulled the thin blanket closer to my body.

Before the bed I had been sleeping in was comfortable and multiple plushs, scary and cute, kept me company. But whenever I moved in this one, spikes of straw stung me and were scratchy. The absence of my beloved plushs didn't help with the vulnerability I was feeling.

In the hospital it used to happen that I woke up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat and with a rapidly beating heart. Never did I call the nurses, it was never that bad. It may be foolish but I didn't want to bother them in the middle of the night. That was always when I was grateful for the toys surrounding me.

The nights were cold and quiet with the only light being the lanterns, the stars and the moon. Loneliness does hit hard in moments like this and sometimes I took one of the CDs I had and listened to the songs while cuddling the plush or I read a book either worked. And even though it may seem melancholic it were the moments I considered to be the most sacred too. The same safety and comfort I felt when surrounded by my family and friends I also feel in such a moment while being alone. But right now I neither had my plushs nor my music. Just the quiet lullaby of the horrendous orchestra…

Being in this place was so surreal that it felt like the fever dreams I was acquainted with. But I knew that it wasn't one. Oh yes, I knew it, it felt too real to be one . . .

Ok, I should stop, this is getting way too depressing real fast. Let's skip a little of that, shall we? Good. Now you see, after some time I decided to stand up, not like I would be able to sleep anyways, and made my way to the door. I had to be careful not to bump into someone's bed or wake people up. Unlucky for me when I opened the door it creaked and made shrill noises.

"Ayayay" is what I thought all the way while opening it on the other side music could be heard. People in the beds were moving and groaning. I quickly slid to the other side of the door and was about to close it when a loud raspy voice from somewhere downstairs made me lose my lose grip on the doorknob which slammed hard on the wall. Blood rushed to my head as some people in the bed moved to see who caused the noise.

"Now Jeremy, show us what you've got!" roared the voice, followed by loud music and laughter. Those who were once asleep shouted at me.

"Brat!" and "close it already!" and "let us sleep goddammit!" wasn't something I was used to hear and even though my movements were frozen and rigid at that moment I tried to close the door quietly anyway. It not being oiled enough didn't make it any better.