Read: I’m No Ordinary Girl, Chapter One, Part One

Read: I’m No Ordinary Girl, Chapter One, Part Two

Read: I’m No Ordinary Girl, Chapter Two, Part One

Read: I’m No Ordinary Girl, Chapter Two, Part Two

Chapter 3: Still in the Hospital

Fear cripples me, freezing every muscle of my body. My eyes wander around the room. The door of my hospital room is only open a smidgen. I try to peak through the door to see if someone is walking around in the hallway. I wish I could understand what’s happening to me. I steady my breath and try to calm the panic that arises through my nerves. I couldn’t hold it in. “Am I going crazy,” I scream. My mom jumps out of the chair and says, “Samantha, are you okay?”

“Yes, Mom, I’m fine. No, I’m not, I’m scared.”

Mom kisses my forehead and says, “Honey, I’m right here by your side.”

I turn the television back on, hoping it will distract me. I flip through the channels searching for the Food Network. Oh goodie, Chopped is on. I laugh softly to myself over one of the chefs competing, giving Judge Scott red onions. If they were a voracious watcher, they would know that he dislikes them. I turn the television off when Chopped is over. I hold my oxygen tube as I roll over to my side. It feels good to get some of the pressure off my back. My spine feels squeezed from being in the upright position all day long. I close my eyes and try to go back to sleep.

Inside my mind, the white light appears again. The white light transforms into an image. I see myself in my pink polka dot pajamas looking out my bedroom window, staring at the bright green grass observing a red robin. The bird flies by and lands in the pine tree across the street where the new neighbors moved in. The attic window of the sunken pool blue house across the street lights up as bright as the sun. The light is not the kind coming from a traditional table lamp. The light is green, and there’s a silhouette of a woman in the window. The image swipes away, and the dark matter reoccurs. I could feel a stabbing pain in my left leg, and then my eyes open to find Nurse Kim pricking my finger.

“Sorry to wake you, it’s time to check your blood sugar.”

“It’s alright; I was having a bad dream anyway.”

“A bad dream? Do you need to talk about it?”

“I keep seeing things and feel like it’s a warning sign.”

“Sometimes, our fears and desires are expressed in our unconscious minds.”

“Our fears and desires can be displayed in our dreams?”

“Yes, that’s what Sigmund Freud discovered. I learned about Sigmund Freud in one of my psychology classes when I was studying to become a nurse.”

I gasp in wonder and say, “That’s very interesting, Nurse Kim.”

If our fears are displayed through our dreams, does this mean my fears are coming true? Is the woman in the black lace dress trying to tell me that I am getting sicker? Am I going to lose my mobility and become paralyzed?

The color quickly drains from my face. The palms of my hands are sweaty.

“Samantha, I’ll be back with orange juice. Your blood sugar dropped again.”

“Hurry back. I don’t feel too good.”

Nurse Kim dashes out the door, then storm back into the room, holding a cup of orange juice. She is walking so fast; I see the cup swaying with her body movement.

“Here’s some juice, Samantha.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m going to stay with you until your blood sugar goes up.”

“Okay, thank you.”

Nurse Kim turns on the light above my bed and sits on a stool. She tries to be as quiet as possible because mom and dad are still asleep. “What happens in your dream?”

“I keep seeing myself and a girl who is pale as a ghost. In one dream, I saw a woman dressed in all black with a needle.”

“Scary dreams?”

“Yes, even talking about them gives me goosebumps.”

“What gives you goosebumps?” Dad said, groggily.

“Sorry, to wake you, Mr. Taylor.”

“It’s okay. What’s going on?” Dad said while stretching.

“Samantha’s blood sugar dropped again. I woke her up, and she said she was having a bad dream.”

“Sorry, honey. Chances are you’re scared because you’re in the hospital.”

I know my dad is trying to comfort me, but these dreams don’t feel like normal bad dreams. It’s like my mind and body go into another world every time I sleep. Does that even make sense? Is that even possible?

“You’re right, dad.”

Dad hugs me and leaves the room to use the bathroom. I drink the rest of the orange juice, and Nurse Kim throws out the cup. She cleans my finger with an alcohol wipe and pricks my index finger. Blood flows onto the test strip, and we wait for the monitor to beep.

“Your blood sugar went up to one hundred and five.”

“That’s good. Thank you for helping me.”

“That’s what I am here for Samantha. Try to get a few more hours of sleep; it’s only four in the morning.”

I wave goodbye and say, “I’ll try.”

I take deep breaths. If I open my eyes every half hour, it could prevent me from seeing any dark matter or anything else spooky. I don’t want to go back to sleep, but I feel tired. I close my eyes and pray to God that I don’t have any out-of-body experiences.