Phobia Read Online Free Page A

fear that I would run out and have to leave the house to refill the prescriptions. The strange thing was, I’d never felt better. No depression and no anxiety as long as I remained in the safety of home. I slept like a hibernating bear, and without any medication, I dreamed every time I slept.
    * * *
    I woke to darkness. Not the usual dark I saw outside my windows, but the kind of inky blackness where you can’t make out faint shapes or shadows or even see your hand in front of your face.
    I was lying in bed. If I was in my own bed, it was unusual for the room to be in total darkness because I always slept with the TV on. The screen provided the perfect night-light and the soothing background noise masked all the creepy creaks and other empty-house noises. I reached to turn the lamp on but found that my arms wouldn’t move.
    Someone was standing over my bed. In the blackness I sensed more than saw the presence.
    A muffled voice spoke, “Shh… it’s okay. You’ve been in an accident. You’re going to be fine.”
    Backlit by a soft light that seemed to appear from nowhere, a human figure came into view. The man wore mint-green scrubs splashed with crimson and the lower half of his face was covered with a bloodstained surgical mask. His eyes were dark, almost black, with bloodshot whites.  He was holding a hypodermic syringe – the old-fashioned type – a huge stainless steel cylindrical instrument of torture with a long plunger and big round finger-holes. It looked like something a mad scientist in an old horror movie might use in his laboratory of terror.
    “Just hold still now. This might hurt a bit.” He chuckled softly.
    I wasn’t convinced. I’d been afraid of needles ever since I could remember. I terrorized my entire Kindergarten class with blood-curdling screams the day we all lined up to receive our booster shots. Blood tests made me faint, from both the needle and the blood. The one time I’d had surgery and woke with an IV in my hand, I screamed and screamed until a nurse came and removed it.
    He lowered the needle toward my neck. I tried to squirm away from him, but found myself unable to move.
    NO! Get that thing away from me! I screamed, but no sound came out. I was completely paralyzed and at the mercy of the nightmare doctor.
    As I felt the jab of the needle I was aware I was dreaming, but felt the effects of the injection nonetheless. A warm buzz flowed through my body as the dream drug entered my bloodstream.
    I have to force myself to wake up. If I force myself to sit up in my sleep I will wake up.
    I focused all of my will on trying to sit up.
    It worked!
    I sprang into an upright sitting position.
    My bedroom looked normal again and the doctor was gone. I rubbed my neck where the needle had pierced my skin, still feeling the remnants of the needle-prick sensation.
    My TV was turned on, tuned to an old Twilight Zone episode set in a hospital, which explained the weirdness. I giggled, relieved. I felt silly, getting all freaked out by a dream brought on by a TV show.
    My mouth felt dry, as it often had lately. I needed a drink of water. I slid out of bed and leaned forward to reach for my slippers. That was when I saw her. A woman sat at a small table next to my bedroom door, facing away from me. A crow perched on her shoulder, pecking lovingly at her face, as if grooming her. I sat frozen, legs dangling over the edge of the bed.
    Now what? Should I say something?
    I cleared my throat to get her attention.
    The woman turned her head, but didn’t see me because she had no eyes, just dark, empty pits where her eyes should have been.
    Something – I didn’t want to know what – dangled from the crow’s beak.
    I screamed.
    I woke up – again – and found myself lying comfortably in bed. I pinched my arms several times to make sure I was awake for real this time and not trapped in another bizarre chapter of the nightmare. This time, my bedroom looked as it always had. No blood-soaked surgeon