~One: Awakening~
I awoke with sweat dripping down my face. I sat up and looked around. The scene around me almost made my heart stop. I didn’t recognize where I was, and what I saw seemed like a hellish nightmare.
Directly in front of me, a little ways off, was a perfectly square rock with bizarre inscriptions on it – nothing I would be able to read, let alone describe.
To my right I saw what looked like trees, but at the same time not. They were twisted, mangled, and char black. They looked like they had been molded in plastic and then thrown into a kiln, partially melted, and then burned as if wood.
To my left, far off into the distance, were… things. A mixture between spherical and oval bodies supported by long, spindly legs. My mind could barely grasp the sight of them. My vision began spinning.
I closed my eyes and grabbed my head, rubbing my temples as I began feeling light headed. I tried to brace myself so that I didn’t pass out. I practiced the breathing exercises that Dr. Singh taught me. In, out, one, two three. In, out, one, two, three.

I awoke with sweat dripping down my face. I could hear the blaring sound of my alarm going off. It was five in the morning. I looked around the dark room in a panic. I recognized it as my own.
At the end of the bed, pushed against the wall, my dresser. Less than a perfect square shape, but still a normal rectangular dresser. It was covered in Chinese characters, the gift my old college roommate and sent me when they went studying abroad.
I looked to my right, nothing that resembled trees. I looked to my left, nothing that resembled the… things. I sighed heavily, shutting my eyes. I took a deep breath and tried to relax, releasing it must have all been a nightmare. Dr. Singh said something like this might happen, a side effect of the medications. I looked over to the night stand, the bright orange bottle sitting on top of it.

I stepped out of the shower and dried myself off, sighing as I brushed off my face. I looked into the mirror at my reflection. Was I always this pale? I looked at the deep sockets of my eyes. They looked like I hadn’t slept in four months. Four months…
I shook my head, shaking the thoughts out of my mind as I hung up the towel. I used the breathing technique again. In, out, one, two, three. Will today be better?

~Two: Deterioration~
I sat down at my desk, sinking my weight into my office chair. I sat there with my eyes closed, breathing in out and, trying to keep myself calm. Visions of the dream came every now and then. I tried to block them out with no real success.
I opened my eyes as I heard the opening sound of the computer starting. I logged on to the company site and brought up my assigned tasks for the day. I loaded up the program we used and began working. Same old work it always was, nothing but paper pushing.
I printed out a few sheets of reports and reached out for my stapler without looking. What I felt was coarse and rough and felt like a snake’s skin. I wrenched my hand back in a startle, looking at what I had just touched.
My stapler. Normal as always, no different in any special or particular way. I reached out again, slowly and hesitantly, and touched the stapler. Nothing special or particular about the feel of it. I grabbed it and held it in my hand. I shook my head, stapled the papers, and put the stapler back in its place.
Without looking I went back to the keyboard to begin typing again. The keys felt cold and gooey to the touch. I recoiled back, nearly falling onto the floor and knocking the chair over. I stared at the keyboard. It looked like gelatin. It was pink, translucent, and looked like it was jiggling.
I covered my hands with my fists and rubbed them, shaking my head back and forth as I tried to keep myself calm. I pulled my hands down away from my face, looking at the keyboard again. Nothing special or unusual. I felt my heart racing as I looked at the mechanical computer peripheral. I reached out and touched it, again it felt normal.
I looked around the office. Nothing else seemed out of place. I decided I’d take a coffee break, ignoring the fact I don’t even drink coffee.

I walked into the break room. There were two other employees chatting with their coffee at the table. I didn’t know them personally, or even their first names really. If I tried hard enough I could probably recall their last names, but I didn’t think it important.
I walked over to the coffee maker and pulled out a cup. I used the breathing exercise, trying to make sense of what had happened earlier at my desk. Was it just another form of hallucination or delusion? I had taken my pills before leaving for work, and Dr. Singh had warned me about possible side effects. I wish I had listened more carefully at what she had said.
I pulled out the coffee pot and began pouring the coffee into the cup. I began smelling the scent of the roasted liquid. I started questioning why I was getting coffee when the smell of it was easily making me sick. I replaced the pot back onto the coffee maker and stared into the dark liquid in the cup. I knew that people generally put something into their coffee, but my mind kept running around in a circle of trying to remember what it was, and nothing was making much sense.
I grabbed the cup with both hands and lifted it towards my face. The smell was even stronger up close. I nearly gagged at the scent. I closed my eyes and tried to calm myself down, mentally preparing myself to drink, for oddly no reason at all. I tried steadying my mind but the skittering and scratching sounds coming from the cup was making it hard to do so.
My eyes sprung open at the thought. ‘Skittering and scratching?’ That made no sense. I looked down into the cup. I felt my heart practically stop as I saw a writhing mass of what looked like bugs in the cup; a mixture of small cockroaches, ants, and some kind of maggots.
I almost vomited at the sight. My hands began to tremble and shake as I watched the insects in the cup moving and wriggling, trying to climb out of the cup using the bodies of the other bugs. I tried to move, to set the cup down, but felt completely paralyzed. All I could do was watch as the bugs began climbing out of the cup and towards my hands.
My body instinctively sent the cup of bugs flying at the wall as the first bug touched my skin. I began shrieking, jumping up and down as I tried to shake the bugs off, making sure none of them were still on me. I saw the other two employees jump up in startle and surprise. “The bugs!” I yelled at, pointing at the wall where the cup had shattered on impact.
“What bugs?” One of them asked.
“The bugs that were in the coffee!” I inched closer to the wall, looking for the bugs on the wall, on the floor, on the remains of the broken coffee cup. Nothing was there except hot coffee stains and the broken ceramic coffee mug. I started stumbling back, confused and in a panic. My mind began spinning and swirling, trying to make sense of what was happening.
I backed up until my back hit something behind me. I jumped and turned around, fearing what it would be this time. To my relief it was my supervisor, Mr. Smith. “Mr. Dunburrow,” he said in his deep, booming, intimidating voice, “What happened in here.”
I felt my body trembling, my voice shaking as I replied. “The bugs… The coffee was filled with bugs!”
Mr. Smith looked over my shoulder at the wall, coffee stains covering it, the little pool of coffee below. “I see no bugs,” he said, turning his gaze back to me.
“They were there, I saw them, I could hear them,” I said, becoming more and more distraught at the entire situation, trying to make sense of it for myself.
“Mr. Dunburrow, I think it would be best if you took the rest of the day off. It’s obvious that you are under a lot of stress with everything that has happened recently.”
I hung my head, heading back to collect my things to go home. In, out, one, two three.

~Three: Dissention~
I lay on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. I’m not really thinking of the words coming out of my mouth, more daydreaming – rolling over what had happened during the early morning and during work. The vivid dream, the hallucinations. I couldn’t take my mind off of them.
I snapped back to reality when I realized my therapist was trying to stop me to ask me something. “Sorry, I kind of got lost in thought… What did you ask Dr.?” I asked, turning my head towards the woman sitting in the chair across from me.
“I asked how long these hallucinations have been happening.”
“They’ve been, well… I think this is the first time it’s happened. I can’t really remember any before happening beforehand, but something feels like this isn’t the first time.”
“So you’re not sure if this is the first time?”
“No, well, not exactly. I can’t recall anything like this happening before, but…”
“Thank you, Mr. Dunburrow, I’ll note that down. How have the medications been treating you? Have you been taking them regularly?”
I thought back to this morning. Did I remember to take my pills? The thought of taking them was hazy and I couldn’t tell if I had taken them today or if I was recalling them taking yesterday, or a week before. Have I been on them for that long already? “Yes I have, Dr.” I lied. I couldn’t remember if I took them or not, but I felt a need to make a lie of confidence.
“It’s possible that these hallucinations could be a side effect of the new pills, as we discussed earlier this week.”
At least someone is keeping track of my life… How has it gotten this bad? What day even is today…?
“It’s still too soon to be sure if it is the medication causing these hallucinations, or if the pills aren’t having any effect on your condition and the hallucinations are a sign of your condition worsening. Keep taking the pills until we meet on Tuesday next week and tell me if the hallucinations persist or worsen.”
“If you think that’s the best course,” I said looking at Dr. Singh. I felt my eyes starting to strain as I stared at her. I blinked and started rubbing my eyes, trying to ease the tension and pain in them. I pulled my hands away and looked back at Dr. Singh’s chair – her empty chair.
I sat straight up, scanning and searching the room for her. I felt my heart rate quicken. Sweat began beading and running down the skin of my face and body. “This isn’t possible,” I thought to myself, “we were just talking, she was sitting right there.”
I went to turn around and look at the door, hoping to find some kind of hint to where the doctor had gone. All I saw was a giant, black, amorphous monstrosity staring at me. I felt my heart stop as I stared into its being; a giant, black, gangly, writhing mass, a an uncountable number of eyes dispersed over its entire mass, and one gaping maw of a mouth in the center, full of pointed serrated teeth and a darkness that made my blood freeze. I felt petrified; I couldn’t breathe.

“Mr. Dunburrow? Are you alright?”
I stared at Dr. Singh, a cold sweat running over my body, my heart beating like it was about to explode from my ribcage. “Yeah, I’m good,” I looked at the clock, pretending I could tell what time it was through my blurry vision, “Is it alright if we end today’s session a bit early? I have some errands I need to run before the weekend.”
Dr. Singh looked at me, sensing that things weren’t all good but didn’t seem to push on the issue. “That’s not a problem. Have a good day Mr. Dunburrow. If anything comes up don’t be afraid to call, alright?”
“Sure thing doctor, I’ll see you next week Tuesday.” I got up and picked up my jacket, shaking the doctor’s hand and heading out the door. I suddenly recalled that our biweekly visits happened every Tuesday and Thursday…