A Waking Nightmare (standard:horror, 1407 words)
Author: Cyrano	Added: Dec 10 2007	Views/Reads: 3272/2074	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
We do it every day...and every day we get lucky...or not! Don't do it... that's the message.

The velvet-soft voice sounds somehow hollow, distant, like a calling
from beyond with rosy lips and swifter than the wind. 

‘Can you hear me...you're okay, gently now, don't struggle, you've been
involved in an accident. Just relax, you're coming round nicely.' I 
feel her pat the back of my palm. 

That first muddled thought ‘accident' tumbles round my head, repeating
itself. The soft, orange radiance becomes a bright, hurtful light as I 
squint my eyelids open. 

‘Accid...accident' I stammer, giving audible sound to the thought. I
feel no pain, just numbness, almost euphoria. 

‘You're doing fine.' Replies a softly spoken, reassuring voice. 

I feel the back of my hand being caressed, and glance up. The woman,
rosy cheeked, is looking down at me; head tilted, wearing a white 
nursing cap on curly brown hair. Her hazel tinted eyes, alight and 
smiling. 

‘You're okay; we've given you a little something to help you relax. She
takes my hand in her fingers, as fragile as bellflowers, and floats 
them on the back of my palm. ‘You feel panicked, I'm sure, maybe not 
feel your legs, but everything is as it should be, do you understand?' 

I hadn't thought about it, but she's right, there's no sensation in my
legs. Paralyzed? The word pierces my mind, like an arrow splitting an 
apple, and a watery sensation floods into my eyes. ‘Trust me, 
everything will be normal soon.' She says, assertively. I feel a mask 
of black velvet descend and I shudder. 

‘Sir... sir...' she repeats, bringing me out of mental grave. ‘I have a
police officer here who needs to ask you a few questions, okay? Just 
stay relaxed, it will only take a couple of minutes.' 

Fear's persistence is numbing, a cool awful reality. There's no
sensation below my waist. 

‘Sure, I'm okay. I am okay, aren't I?' 

‘Absolutely. Breath deeply. I'll be right here.' She smiles and makes a
beckoning motion with a movement of her head. I grip her fingers 
tightly. 

Before seeing the policeman, I hear his voice... ‘Hello,' it says. With
that cigarette rasp. 

‘I'm sorry to see you this way but it's important I ask you some
questions. The nurse here tells me you're doing okay, out of danger. 
That's good.' 

Then I see him at my feet. I never saw a man who looked with such an
accusing eye. 

‘I can't feel my legs, sir.' 

The nurse quickly chimes in. ‘You will, I promise you, just a few more
minutes, that's all, and your legs will be fine. Please relax and 
answer the policeman's questions.' 

‘Policeman?' I suddenly thought. I didn't consider, don't understand,
didn't realise until that second and then, seeing his uniform, a cap 
under his right arm, a notebook in his left hand, white shirt, black 
tie, looking smart, official and authoritive. I shrink as though ice 
were trickling down my spine. 

‘Do you remember anything of the accident, sir?' He asks, looking down
at his notebook, pencil poised. It takes me a moment. 

‘No, no, I don't.' 

‘Do you recall leaving home this morning?' 

The very word ‘morning' reminds me instantly that I have no idea of


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