“Brandon, Brandon, Brandon!”, her voice repeated in a loud whisper – yet soothing – in what felt like a divine spirit of some sort speaking to me through some spiritual medium. I must have fallen asleep. I slowly opened my eyes and removed my hat from my face to reveal the blinding fluorescent lighting above, only to realize that there was nobody there. I was alone in [my] room.
Again, I closed my eyes and heard the beautiful girl’s voice two more times. I must have fallen asleep yet again – after all, I was awake for about forty hours prior to this. Eyes again opened and this time fully conscious and aware of my surroundings, as I heard the loud conversations and shouts of arguments and violent vomiting from detoxing heroin addicts, it had struck me like baseball bat to the head. I was in the detox unit of the psychiatric ward and there was nobody calling my name. Yet somehow, the clock nearly stood still. It’s likely that no more than two hours or less had passed.
To this day that voice still haunts me. Was I dreaming? Was I hallucinating? Was this some divine experience? I’ve never encountered anything like that before in my entire life, and I’ve been used to the nightly fucked up vivid dreams that Prozac has and continues to burden me with for a decade.
Dream Shiver 