Chase and I went out to eat. We ate at a pretty expensive restaurant. During out desert course, I asked, "Do you always spend this much on eating out?"

"It's not my money,"

"So what...? You want me to pay?"

"You're not paying either." Chase leaned back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head with a smile taped to his face.

"Well, you know, we can't just leave. Someone has to pay." I leaned back in my chair. "So, who's paying?"

Chase smiled. "A magiCian never reveals their secrets."

I smile, shaking my head. "What I am supposed to do with you?" I relaxed in my chair and shut my eyes. "Although, really, where are you getting the money...?"

"Okay. My dad made me a promise that if I ever take my girlfriend out to eat at a fancy restaurant that he'd pay. I got one free-be and I thought that you'll probably be the only girl I take out, so why not take you out to celebrate our victory."

I smiled. "You do so much for me."

He leaned forward. "I do. But what do I care?"

I leaned forward. "You should care. A girlfriend costs a lot." I smiled and kissed Chase.

I opened my eyes faster than I ever had in my life. I heard a beep that I only recognized from movies and TV shows. Beside me, there was a heart monitor and an IV. I followed the IV tube to where it ended in my arm.

I looked around with the sudden realization of where I was.

I was in a hospital.

The heart monitor stopped as the bright florescent lights flickered off. I sat up in the hospital bed. I was in a room, alone, and everything was now dark and empty.

A spine chilling fear tried to make its way to my conscience but I forced it out of my mind to deal with what was in front of me: I am in a dream. I am in a dream in a hospital. I will find my mom and she will try to kill me.

Fantastic.

I took a deep breath and tried to manipulate my dream. I pictured a flashlight—full batteries—on the nightstand beside my bed. I tried to imagine myself in a t-shirt, tennis shoes, and jean shorts along with a knife—machete, what's the difference—beside the flashlight.

To my surprise—and shock—the knife and flashlight were on the nightstand along with a much better suited outfit for taking down my mom.

I took a deep breath and swung my legs over the side of the hospital bed. Taking out the IV, I sighed then grabbed the flashlight and machete and wandered out of the hospital room. The lights in the hall cut in half, the remaining lights flickering.

Why are hospitals in nightmare/horror movies never light up completely and never have anyone else but the main characters and the killer?

Yeah. So much sense being made there...

I had two options: left or right. I—being a lefty and having zero luck come to me being left handed—chose right. I started walking down the hallway clutching the light and machete in my hand.

Even though I imagined a flashlight with FULL batteries, guess what I got?

Not even twenty feet down the hall my flashlight refused to work. I ditched the flashlight and continued to make my way down the hall. An exit sign flickered overhead and I followed the arrow, hopeful to find a way out of this creepy-ass hospital.

The exit sign led to a set of double doors. Closed. Locked. Spray painted with the word—name, "Scarlett".

At least, I hope it was spray paint.

Yep. Not going through that door now...

I turned around and started walking the other way.

The sound of squeaking wheels pierced the silence. I stopped walking, fear locking my joints, enabling me to turn around. I tried to calm myself.

Once I got my heart rate back under control, my joints unlocked and I could move again. Blaming my own fright on the squeaking wheels, I continued moving without a glance back.

I stopped dead in my tracks, when I heard the wheels again.

I found it in me to turn around and face the phantom. An empty wheel chair—rusted beyond repair—facing me. The wheel chair moved forward slightly, stopped and moved back.

"Follow it Scarlett,"

A chill ran down my spine. The voice calming to be my mother told me to follow a creepy wheel chair. I saw this movie, it didn't end well...

"Why the hell not?!" I walked towards the chair and it wheeled back, going down a hall I could've sworn wasn't there before.

The chair led me around the hospital for fifteen minutes until it stopped, rather abruptly, and ran into a room, the door slamming shut behind it.

Well if an inanimate object is scared... I should be too... Right?

But... I'm not.

"Alright Mom! Just come out, try to kill me so I can wake up and get back to life as an Unscripted!" I yelled out. "Come on! I'm kind of sick of these dreams! Aren't you sick of haunting me?!"

A laugh, deep and dark, rang out. It sounded like something out of a horror movie. How fitting for this nightmare. "Scarlett." A whisper. A haunting whisper.

"Mother," I crossed my arms, careful with the machete still in my hands. "Can't we just get this over with?"

"Getting impatient are we...?"

"Yes. Yes I am." I uncrossed my arms, standing, trying to relax. "Seriously, this "game" of yours is getting very annoying."

"Patients is key," I heard her voice from behind me and turned around.

"A creepy hospital. Nice venue." I started twirling the machete handle in my hand like a baton.

I felt her smile pry on my soul—even though her face was shadowed, hidden in the dark. "What did you expect? A field of bunnies and unicorns?"

"A happy middle, thank you very much." I sighed. "How come you haven't attacked me yet?" Was this all part of her game...?

"What? Are you eager to fight? Are you eager to let your mother kill you?"

I sighed. "Not really. A month has gone by and I still don't know why you're trying to kill me. You've said, "It's all your fault"... but... That doesn't really tell me anything about what I did. But I highly doubt you'll tell me what I did."

She laughed, again dark and evil. "Correct."

Within a snap the lights blacked out and I was left blind. The only light came from the exit sign, flickering a red beam.

Here it come—

My eyes opened in a snap and my heart pounded in my ears. I was lying face up on my bed, in my apartment, with my Match lying beside me. Still asleep.

The red light on my clock read: 3:15. I took a deep breath and tried to resist the urge to wake Chase up. I can woke this through myself, I don't need Chase to help calm me down.

I sat up and swung my legs over the edge of my—non-hospital—bed. I grabbed my phone and walked into the bathroom. I closed—and locked the door. I ran water for a shower and started a playlist on my phone, hoping a shower would wash away the dream.

But no. Not even a thirty minute long shower with music blasting through the bathroom can do that.

After my shower, I got dressed back in my PJ's and made my way to the kitchen. I warmed up a cup of milk and made instant hot chocolate.

I sat on my couch as I drank the hot chocolate, reliving the nightmare over and over in my head, imagining each gruesome detail. Hearing my mother whisper my name.

"What are you doing up?" Chase's body was silhouetted by the bedroom light.

I stood up and put the cup in the sink. "A nightmare. I didn't want to wake you." I walked over to Chase and put my arms around his bare chest. "That's all."

"Did you take a shower? Your hair is wet,"

I nodded. "I've been up awhile."

"That bad?"

"Needless to say, I won't be able to walk down the hall of a hospital for a long time."

He smiled. "Are you going back to sleep any time soon?"

I shook my head. "Too creeped out. But you don't have to stay up with me." That'd be asking a lot.

Chase kissed my forehead. "Are you sure?" I nodded, my head still against his chest. "Then I'll be asleep." He let me go and I took my place on the couch. Ready to stay up for the rest of the night...

Thinking...

Processing...

Scaring myself...

What's new there?