Flaky

I looked away, unsure how to start, and my eyes were drawn to the room's details.

The clinic was fairly new, but I noticed this room was already looking shabby in places - whether through constant use, or poor workmanship, it was was hard to say. Most likely a combination of both. A mate from school, a painter and decorator, had once told me - with a certain amount of admiration - of some of the scams used in painting NHS buildings.

I think one of the dodges had involved washing down three walls of a ward, then painting over the fourth without washing it - so it looked like four freshly-painted walls, for the cost of painting one. Or maybe I've remembered it wrong... either way, I soon recognised this train of thought for the distraction it was.

"Well," I began, "the big problem is that I'm not sleeping - or rather, I am sleeping, but as soon as I do, there's this recurring nightmare. It goes in a loop, where I don't know where I am, or who I am ... and it just keeps going on and on. Sometimes it wakes me up, and that's bad enough in itself - horrible, really, horrible," I paused, my mouth dry.

"Other times, it's like I'm stuck in this dream for hours, all night - the same thing over and over again. You might not think that would be so bad, but when I wake up I'm totally exhausted, like I've been physically doing stuff in my dreams. It's getting so I can't keep my eyes open - and when that happens, the nightmare starts again. Shit, I feel like I could go to sleep right now. It's terrifying."

Janice said nothing.

"So anyway, this has been going on since I woke up in the hospital after they found me ... do you know that I was in a coma in the hospital?" I noticed she had my notes in front of her. "All in there?"

She nodded, again without speaking.

"Anyway, I went back to work on Monday. Didn't go too badly, as a matter of fact - but I fell asleep when I got home, and woke up screaming. So I took Dr Clarke's advice and got in touch. And now, I feel like I'm wasting your time."

Janice smiled, not unsympathetically.

"Thing is, saying all this now, it just sounds like I'm moaning about having some bad dreams. But when it's actually happening, it's awful. I feel like I'm going to die."

I stopped, unable to go on, waiting for her reply.



Story begins here.