The Endless Hospital

As well as a failed trip to somewhere and a fight for my life. (Recounted Dream)


A few nights ago, I had a really weird dream.

Understand, when I have a weird dream, it isn’t like other weird dreams where the randomest things happen. In my strangest dreams, not everything makes sense, but there is some order to everything.

So this dream started off in a hospital parking lot. Except, it wasn’t a normal hospital. This hospital had no end. It wasn’t very tall, but in either direction, it disappeared into the distance.

There were cars in the parking lot, but a large rectangular area the size of a football field was clear and my Color Guard was practicing on it. No band, just the Guard.

The really weird part about the Guard was that it wasn’t a mismatch of people like you normally see in a dream. I recognized each girl as a girl who was or had been in the same Guard as me in the past. I even recognized my main director, and he acted exactly as he would in real life.

So during a break, I grab two of my closest friends and we go for a walk. We end up in an area of the hospital that, thinking back on it, looked vagueally like a pure white version of the outside of my school.

We enter the hospital and find ourselves in the entryway of a large waiting room, which is entirely filled but mostly quiet. Some people in the room are injured, some are sick, some have crying babies, but all are just waiting. Doctors and nurses enter and exit, but the room never clears.

My friends and I don’t stay long. When we exit, I bring up how I’ll have to leave our Guard trip to Ecuador (or Florida, somewhere tropical) early so that I can meet my family in China.

I don’t know why the whole Guard was taking a trip to somewhere tropical, and I don’t know why my family was in China or why I had to meet them there, but that’s what was happening.

So my friends tell me I’ll have to let our director know, and I say something along the lines of, “Of course! Actually, we should go right now.”

We get to the part of the parking lot we had been practicing on, only to find everyone taking the last few things they need or packing their bags.

I go up to my director and let him know the situation, and he says it’s fine, but I’ll need to be careful because he’s in charge of me so long as we’re on the trip. I agree to be careful, and we get going.

I turn around, and suddenly we’re in the airport. Everything is noisy and chaotic. The Guard is running around in a million places at once, getting their luggage checked in and getting their tickets and finding their passports and going through security, and it’s just crazy.

And then I realize, I need to leave to meet my parents in China right away. Somehow, I guess I’m already through the gate because I start pushing back through security, yelling over my shoulder to my friends that I have to go.

Then I’m racing through the airport with no idea where to go, no ticket, and only my backpack because I left my luggage behind. Yet I keep running. I don’t stop until I realize I’ve lost my passport, and only then do I feel lost and defeated.

I turn around and find myself in the library of my high school. A different close friend of mine stands with me, looking upset. Other people sit randomly around the room, all with pale faces and sunken eyes.

My friend tells me they’re sick, all of them, and there doesn’t seem to be any way to help them. Fear for them starts to fill me, but I know I can’t give up on them.

I step forward towards someone sitting nearby, and suddenly I’m in the middle of some hollowed-out tree. I turn around and can see the outside world: clear skies, green grass, but it looks more like a painting than reality.

I turn back around. Around me are five paths. One wide one directly in front of me, two narrower ones on either side of it, and two narrower one to either side of the outside world/painting.

I choose to go down the narrow path to my left, the one next to the wide one. I head down a set of stairs and find myself in a room with three paintings like the ones in a Mario game I used to play, where the paintings led to the different worlds.

Then I heard a laugh and turned around to find this stage, and on the stage one of those platforming Mario games was playing. And standing in front of the stage was Bowser. He was the one who laughed.

Somehow, I know Bowser was the one who had caused the illness of all those people, and I knew he had to be stopped. But I was just me.

He started attacking me and I did my best to fight back, but unlike the usual thing that happens where you become some ulmighty, powerful hero in the face of danger, I was still just me. I had no powers or strength or speed. I had nothing.

It was a hopeless battle and I knew it, but I couldn’t stop. There was no point to stopping. If I stopped, I would get sick and die like everyone else. If I kept fighting, Bowser would kill me.

I knew I was going to die, so I just kept fighting. And then I woke up.

I don’t know how the fight ended exactly, but my guess is I lost.



Author: Hope Alexandra Cullers

I'm an aspiring writer and relatively seasoned traveler who only wishes to see, experience, and learn more. I'm ADD, HSP, a perfectionist, and an extroverted introvert. I'm crazy about the idea of perspectives, find joy in the little things, and make it my personal mission to see the beauty is everything. Welcome to my blog, and thank you for taking the time to visit! Remember, carpe diem!

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