Reliving Nightmares

A short story from the view point of Rin, a boy reliving some of the worst memories he has.


1. Short Story.

Rin laid on his bed, pale body curled into a ball and shaking with violent tremors. His shoulders jerked forward and back with each silent cry escaping his lips, his body following the movement of his shoulders seconds later. His small form continued to spasm as he slowly raised both of his hands, his fingertips soon meeting with his hair. He moved the greasy strands out of the way, his fingers moving through them until they met with his hair-covered scalp. With a slight move of his wrist, the pad of his finger was replaced with his nails.
Flashes of times and places appeared in front of him, changing every thirty seconds to another place that held another memory. Each one held something terrible to it. Each one was coated in a thick scarlet liquid that coated the ground and walls, it being either visible or invisible. Screams echoed in the air of each frame, not disappearing when the next memory came by. Instead every haunting sound stayed, wailing, screaming, beeping, all of it didn't leave once it came upon Rin. The sounds instead stayed, ringing in his ear nonstop. Though, as each minute slowly ticked by, the memories began to slow. It took longer and longer for one to flicker to the next. This continued until it finally just stopped, halting on a single memory that began to run through itself, continuing until it ended and then restarting. This 'film' stained itself into his eyes.

Everything was white. The blankets, pillows, walls, floors. Just about everything was that terrible consuming color. The only thing that lacked the color was some of the machines and the substances they used, but even if not white, it was dull and lacking of everything positive. The halls and rooms were filled with sounds. The beeping of machines, the soft drips of IVs, the voices of pitiful nurses. Though the worst thing about this place was the smell, which was the only thing he was currently experiencing.
It stunk of illness and death. It was a scent that Rin had been smelling for two hours. Sitting in the waiting room for such a long amount of time was difficult enough without the putrid smell in the air. He sat in a small chair with his arms resting on his knees, his forearms hanging off of his legs and coming together to where his fingers were twined together, cupping each other tightly. His knuckles were a striking white and sweat rolled down his body as he waited. He didn't know what made him more nervous; the stench of death or the two hours he had been waiting for news.
"How can I smell this from the waiting room?" He whispered softly to himself, talking about that scent. He growled slightly, letting his head lean forward to rest against his hands. This silence and nothingness was starting to get to him, it was beginning to crawl into his mouth and down his throat, choking him on it's way down. That's when a nurse walked out of the two large doors that he had been glancing at from time to time. She looked over at him, him being the only person waiting in the room, and cautiously stumbled over. She looked like maybe she wanted to put a hand on his shoulder or show some physical support but she did no such thing. Instead she just closed her eyes, letting out a soft breath before whispering a few words that shook Rin to the core. "I'm sorry, she's dead."
 He could practically feel his heart stop and didn't notice the nurse retreat back through the two doors. No, no, no. She couldn't be gone. She couldn't be.No, no, no. She said she wouldn't leave him alone, she promised to him when he was young that she wouldn't. "No, no, no." He whispered, voice cracking as he said the simple word three times. She couldn't be gone, she couldn't be. She WOULDN'T leave him behind. "No, no, no! NO!" He jumped to his feet, the world swaying side to side as he struggled to stand, his hands balled into fists by his side. "She isn't dead, she ISN'T!" He shrieked, his eyes narrowing as he noticed a group of nurses running towards him. He wanted to yell at them, let them know that they were doing their jobs wrong and give them a piece of his mind. He wanted to show them the rage he felt and maybe take it out on a few of them, he wasn't below that. But, when they came to him and first touched him, he fell. All the strength just seemed to seep out of him, leaving him in a weakened state that sent him to the ground. The world no longer swayed, but instead seemed blurred with the tears now streaming from his wide, horror-filled eyes. His body shook, jerking with every breath that escaped his gaping lips. Breathing suddenly seemed so hard and it took all he could to continue gasping for it. "N-No," he whispered, overcome with the emotions running through him. His heart seemed to crack, the pieces of thread holding it together suddenly buckling and falling apart. His head was running through all the things she said, that he could currently remember.
This couldn't be happening, no. He hadn't just lost her in a car crash. She was stronger then that, she wouldn't leave him over a car crash. "No ..    
"Stop it!" Rin yelled, eyes widened with anger and horror as he jerked up, his upper body lifting from the comfort of the bed. His breaths were fast paced and heavy, the only sound in the quiet room. He moved a bit more until he was sitting up on the piece of furniture, his legs tucked beneath him snugly. His fingers dragged down his skin, leaving white marks that quickly faded as his fingers got to his jaw. He did this again and again and those white marks started to turn into more noticeable scratches. His breaths became louder as he drew his legs up and over to his chest, his body curling slightly around the limbs. 
"Stop .. stop showing me this," he whispered, voice now much softer. He didn't want to experience this scene again, it brought back so much pain and so many emotions that seemed to tear him away from the inside. He could practically feel invisible claws tearing at him, ripping away his flesh. As if hearing his pleas, the sound to the memory stopped, cutting off a good portion of the emotions the memory fed. The sound was replaced with a chorus of voices. His father's, "friend's", and more. They were all from different times and places and were being meshed together, ringing in his ear.
"I never liked you."
"What a loser."
"I'm so disappointed in you."
"Why doesn't he just kill himself?"
"A waste of space."
"I never loved you .. I just felt sorry for you .."
"Why do I have to be your father?"
"Get a life."
He whimpered in response, listening as all the voices started and ended together, being replaced by another whisper that still killed him. His fingernails dragged up and down his skin in response as he curled over himself, screaming. Tears streamed down his face, dribbling down his pale skin and falling onto the comforter as he bent over, now on his elbows and knees. Blood mixed in with the salty liquid coming from his eyes, it all collecting below him. "No, stop! Stop!" His screams became louder and louder, fueled for his desperation for it to stop. Though, a realization ran through him. Through the voices and the memory of his mother's he realized something.  This would never stop.
Because you can't forget the nightmares you've caused.
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