This is just a dream, thought a panicked Nancy. She could hear her mother's anguished cries in the background.

"Krueger!" screamed Nancy, as she drove the car into a tree. She turned around to see her friends in their murdered state: Rod was blue with strangulation marks; Tina was wrapped in a bloody body bag; Glen rested against the driver's side window with his entrails sticking out, and his entire body covered with blood.

Nancy ignored them, and jumped out of the car. Her feet felt like quicksand, as she rushed to the door. When the door wouldn't budge, Nancy broke the remaining glass with her elbow. A sharp pain registered on her funny bone. Nancy inspected the little window again, and noticed that it had bars—just like in real life.

She could see her mother on the sofa, shielding herself with her arms as Freddy Krueger cut away. "Mother!" cried Nancy in desperation, "Leave her alone!"

Nancy pulled on the bars with all her might, but the metal wouldn't budge from its hinges. She looked again. Her mother and Freddy vanished. She continued struggling with the bars when Freddy's charred face appeared before her.

"Soon," he growled. Nancy furiously tried to reach at him through the bars, "I'll kill you, you bastard!"

Freddy's face changed into a different man's visage.

"She's going nuts. We need to restrain her!"

"Wait, you don't have to do that." Nancy recognized her father's voice, Donald Thompson.

Nancy tried to speak, but an oxygen mask was covering her face.

"Sir, please, we need to admit her now," said a nurse, "She not only has a bad concussion, but she inhaled a lot of smoke."

"Donald, let them do their job." Yet another unmistakable voice. It belonged to Sylvia, the home wrecker that destroyed her parent's marriage.

"Stay out of this. I know what's best for my daughter," barked Donald at Sylvia.

"Not in this case, unless you became a doctor without telling me," snapped Sylvia back.

Nancy jolted when the gurney collided with the emergency room doors. Her father and stepmother remained behind. With the adrenaline dying down, Nancy could feel the pain in her head and lungs.

She closed her eyes for a moment. They snapped open when she heard the roar. Freddy Krueger was suspended over her, swiping at her with his finger knives. Only he looked different. He was glowing white with orbs surrounding him.

The pain in her body took the fight out of Nancy. Her vision went black, and Krueger disappeared in the ceiling.


When the medical treatment was over, Nancy assumed she would be going home. But her father admitted her into Columbus Psychiatric Center. No doubt an idea posed by Sylvia. Just when that bitch couldn't get any more conniving, thought Nancy.

Columbus Psychiatric Center was designed in the neoclassical style. On the outside, it resembled an imposing courthouse. But within, the walls were painted in a garish pink color. Perhaps it was to have a calming effect on the troubled patients. Instead, it gave the facility an eerie, juvenile quality. Nancy was housed in an all-women's ward. She was given a strict itinerary for her medication and meals. Aside from that, Nancy was able to roam the halls and partake in the activities room.

On her first day, Nancy refused to come out of her room. After arguing with the nurses, Nancy was given an ultimatum by Evelyn, the nurse coordinator: either she left her room willingly, or the orderlies would drag her out. The threat had the desired affect. Of course they didn't tell her that she would be given her medication first. In the dining area, Nancy couldn't believe how crazy the other women looked. Some of the women looked catatonic. They needed a staff member to feed them. Others would talk unintelligibly to their food. One girl would only eat food that was of a certain color. I don't belong with these nut jobs.

Nancy took her tray, and sat in the farthest corner that she could find. When a girl behind her started screaming for no apparent reason, Nancy fought back her tears. She hated being there. How could her father put her in such a place? The orderlies removed the girl from the dining hall, and Nancy finally had peace again. She looked in her peripheral vision, and noticed a blonde girl sitting further down to her left. Nancy felt embarrassed that she hadn't seen the girl earlier.

"So…does stuff like that always happen?" asked Nancy.

"Give her a break," said the blonde girl, "It doesn't take much to make you crazy in this place."

The blonde girl grabbed her tray, and left the table. So much for making new friends, thought Nancy.

Nancy looked over her shoulder, and saw Evelyn staring at her. Nancy turned back to her food. She wondered if her father was thinking of her.


It was not until the next day that Nancy met her physician, Dr. Burroughs. Nancy immediately hated the man. He had a smug attitude. Worse, the man smelled like nicotine gum—the kind that Sylvia would always chew. Underneath his glasses was a pointed nose that reminded Nancy of Pinocchio. Nancy had been brought into a conference room to speak with him. He barely registered her presence, and waved his hand dismissively towards the chair opposite of him.

"So…how has your stay been?" asked Dr. Burroughs.

"I don't belong here," said Nancy. "There's been a terrible mistake."

"I see," stated Dr. Burroughs. "So, you demolished your own home why…?"

Nancy didn't have an answer.

"Let me tell you what I believe, Ms. Thompson," said Dr. Burroughs. "I wholeheartedly believe that you wanted your father's attention."

"Of course!" said Nancy. "I was fighting for my life."

"Against whom?" asked Dr. Burroughs. "You were the only person making any kind of commotion. Your mother was asleep."

"That's not true," said Nancy. "I was fighting for my life…My dad knew that I would be calling for him, anyhow."

"That's not how your father told it," said Dr. Burroughs. "He said that you were rambling in a sleep-deprived stupor."

"My father wouldn't say that," said Nancy.

"I paraphrased," said Dr. Burroughs flatly.

Nancy's eyes burned with rage, but she accepted the comment silently.

"Tell me about your mother," said Dr. Burroughs. "Did you feel any resentment towards her?"

"What do you mean?" asked Nancy.

"Well, you were the only ones in the house, and she ended up a charred corpse," said Dr. Burroughs.

"How dare you!" exclaimed Nancy. "You fucking bastard!"

Dr. Burroughs gave a hand signal towards the door. An orderly entered the room like clockwork and escorted Nancy out.

"That will be all for today," said Dr. Burroughs.


Nancy barely had an appetite during lunchtime. It didn't help that the cuisine consisted of spinach and cubed chicken. The meat was undercooked, and the vegetable was soggy. Nancy merely picked at what was in front of her.

"First meeting with Burroughs?"

Nancy turned, and realized it was the blonde girl from yesterday.

"That obvious?" asked Nancy.

"Dr. Burroughs brings out the best in all of us," replied the blonde girl, sarcastically.

"How many meetings have you had with him?" asked Nancy.

"I lost count. I'm just concentrating on getting out of here, that's all" said the girl.

Nancy nodded as if she understood.

"I'm Nancy, by the way." She extended her hand. The blonde girl ignored it.

"I don't shake hands," said the blonde girl, "Mine is Trish."

"Nice to meet you" was all that Nancy could muster. She knew the reply was too half-hearted. An awkward pause ensued.

"So, since we're on a first name basis, you might as well ask why I'm here."

"I wasn't planning too," said Nancy.

Trish looked Nancy directly in the eyes. Nancy couldn't resist the invitation. Glen always said her inquisitiveness would someday get her into trouble.

"Okay, why are you here Trish?" asked Nancy. The curiosity outweighed decorum.

"My brother and I killed a man," said Trish.

Nancy was awestruck. But Trish carried on as though she always told the story. She scooped her cubed chicken mechanically.

"I almost died…I should've died," said Trish. "Except I had to protect my brother, Tommy. The adrenaline just kicked in. When you're that pumped up, you can take on any man twice your size."

"I know what you mean," said Nancy.

Trish stared at her fork and looked dazed. So much so that Nancy didn't know what to say at first.

"Where's your brother?" asked Nancy. The words slipped out naturally. Her damn curiosity won yet again.

"I don't know," said Trish. "They won't let me talk to him until I get better." Trish tapped her broccoli. "All I know is he's in a foster home."

"What about your parents?"

"They're both dead," said Trish, almost in a whisper. "My mother…"

Even though Trish covered her face, Nancy could see tears escaping from Trish's eyes. "She was killed by him…Jason Voorhees."

The name didn't register with Nancy. Judging by Trish's intense expression, Nancy felt like she should've known the person.

"It's okay. I lost my mother too," said Nancy, touching Trish's hand.

"I just keep thinking…that my mother didn't even have a chance against him," said Trish.

The words hit Nancy between the eyes. It was now her turn to start crying. Trish was too preoccupied with her thoughts to notice Nancy's crying.

"But I can't think of that right now. I'm going to get out of here, and Tommy and I will live a normal life," uttered Trish.

Trish looked down at Nancy's hand. Nancy removed it out of embarrassment.

"You probably don't believe me," said Trish.

"No, I believe you. I believe that you killed a guy out of self-defense," said Nancy.

"I don't mean that. You don't believe that I'll live a normal life," said Trish.

Nancy could see anger and resentment in Trish's eyes.

"I better go," said Trish. She grabbed her tray in a single motion. Nancy just stared at her own tray. What the hell just happened? Nancy thought.


During the early morning hours, Nancy could hear several men pass her door.

"How the hell could this happen?" asked a male voice.

"Is was all the security guard's fault. I told you he was an incompetent little shit."

Nancy felt woozy from the medication. She closed her eyes again, and drifted away. It can't be that serious, thought Nancy. If it was a fire, they would've evacuated us.

It wouldn't be until the next day that Nancy learned the cause of the commotion. Trish seduced one of the security guards. While he was sleeping off his post-coital satisfaction, Trish stole his keys and escaped from Columbus. Nancy wasn't surprised by the news. After all, regardless of what Trish went through, she was still a very pretty girl. Any guy would've fallen for the trick. So that's what she meant by I'm going to get out of here. Nancy wondered how long she worked the guy. It must've taken a while to gain his trust. Or maybe not. Nancy remembered how sex-crazed Rod was. Tina was always able to wrap him around her finger—with little effort. Still, even though Nancy just had that one conversation with Trish, she felt like she met a kindred spirit. It's not everyday you meet another girl that fought against a homicidal maniac.


"You do realize, Ms. Thompson, that I can sit here all day?" said Dr. Burroughs.

Nancy was so lost in her thoughts that she forgot about Dr. Burroughs. She couldn't stop thinking about her strange encounter with Trish. Nancy wondered if Trish found her brother. She imagined that they ran off together, away from men that murder innocent mothers with their blades and brute strength.

"Did you hear me, Ms. Thompson?"

She shrugged her indifference to his second question.

"You were the last person to speak with Trish Jarvis. What did she tell you?" asked Dr. Burroughs.

"She didn't tell me anything. She just told me that her and her brother killed a man. That's all," said Nancy.

"If you're holding out on some vital information, I can make sure that you sit in the quiet room for eternity. Only good, sane girls leave Columbus."

"Really?" asked Nancy. "You know, I'm glad that Trish got out. Her mother was killed by a murderer, and the best thing you could all think of is locking her in this place."

Dr. Burroughs couldn't believe Nancy's audacity.

"You're not a medical professional, so you don't have any say whatsoever. Trish is a very sick girl. The faster we find her, the better," said Dr. Burroughs. "You can't have a girl like that wandering the streets."

"And what kind of girl was she?" asked Nancy.

"She witnessed something very traumatic. She needed to be here to deal with that," said Dr. Burroughs.

"So you doped her up, threw her in a room, and threw the key away," said Nancy accusingly.

"Listen, young lady, I don't have to answer to you. At least Trish had a legitimate reason for being here. You, on the other hand, is 'daddy's little girl.' You did everything you could to draw attention to yourself."

"How dare you," said Nancy. "My friends were killed. I lost my mother to the same man that murdered them!"

"See, that's where you're wrong, young lady," said Dr. Burroughs. His voice seemed to turn brusque. "There's a logical explanation for all of that. But instead, you want to blame everything on the boogeyman."

"Go to hell!" yelled Nancy, as she slammed her hands against the table. "It wasn't a boogeyman. All of it was real."

"Is that a fact?" asked Dr. Burroughs. "So all teenagers should fear that a…child murderer will terrorize them in their dreams?" Burroughs kept his eyes on his notes.

"Exactly," said Nancy. She balled her fists in frustration.

"In that case…why hasn't he killed you yet?" posed Dr. Burroughs. He didn't even bother to raise his eyes up at her.

Nancy had an epiphany. The asshole had a point. Why hadn't Freddy killed her yet?

Dr. Burroughs straightened his tie. He was obviously flustered by the conversation.

"Well, I think we both compromised ourselves. That will be all for this session."

Nancy remained seated.

"You can go now," said Dr. Burroughs. Nancy complied reluctantly.

As she walked out of the room, Nancy caught something that Dr. Burroughs said: child murderer. Nancy never mentioned that part about Freddy Krueger.


Sprawled on her bed, Nancy closed her eyes. Burroughs was an asshole all right. At first, Nancy couldn't think of anything better than driving a pen in his eye. But she needed to gain his trust. Otherwise, she would never get out of the facility. Only good, sane girls leave Columbus.

"You are a good, sane girl."

Nancy opened her eyes. She turned her head to see her mother leaning against the wall. Just like when she was alive, Marge Thompson was smoking a cigarette.

"Daddy doesn't think so," said Nancy.

Marge chuckled a little. "You're going to have to learn, Nancy, that your daddy isn't always right."

"But it's not just him. They all think I'm crazy," said Nancy.

"You and I know it's not true. So did Tina, Rod and Glen," said Marge. "So terrible…all of that loss. I thought we were all doing the right thing that night."

"What do I do mother?" asked Nancy. "That doctor doesn't like me that much."

"Don't take it personally, baby. Dr. Burroughs has his own reasons for being a prick. But none of that matters right now," said Marge. "You need to leave…so that you can live. Don't follow in the footsteps of that Trish girl, though. You don't want to be reckless."

"It wasn't her fault, mother. She needed to find her brother," said Nancy.

"You know better, Nancy. You can't excuse her behavior. I know that love can make you do crazy things sometimes. But you have to stay rational."

"But what if Krueger comes back?" asked Nancy. "I can't just turn my face, and pretend that none of this ever happened."

"Think of it this way…You leave this place, and you get stronger," said Marge. "We took matters in our own hands, and we failed all of you. But you…you're a smart, brave girl…you can do so much more than we ever could."

Nancy could feel her mother's comforting touch.

"Not to mention that you inherited that beautiful wavy hair from me," said Marge. "If your hair wasn't brown, we'd be mistaken for twins."

Nancy smiled.

"You'll have to play a part…just like I did. I buried everything under the drinking. But you, you have a better chance. You're going to find a way. You always do," said Marge.

"Thanks, mother," said Nancy. She could feel herself drifting into the waking world.

"Oh, and Nancy, if anybody ever asks, just say I died in my sleep. It's more dignified than the actual truth," said Marge.


Nancy psyched herself out for the next meeting with Burroughs. She would have to take her mother's advice to appear normal. Then, Nancy could get the hell out of Columbus, and embark on a new beginning. She knew the orderly would fetch her at 11:00am, so Nancy wandered around the center. She passed the television room, in which the patients were busy watching a Shirley Temple movie.

Nancy raked her fingernails against the hallway's walls. She daydreamed about what was beneath all that pink paint. Nancy wondered if—underneath—the walls were saturated with tears and other viscera. She came upon some photographs. They were apparently taken at a going away party for somebody named Heather Johnson. Heather was posed with her two children—a little girl and boy. Nancy stared at the little girl, for there was something in her eyes that was haunting. The pictures were taken years ago, and Nancy wondered why the center bothered to keep them hanging. Perhaps Heather was the "Employee of the Month" on several occasions. Nancy studied Heather's pristine white uniform, and wondered how somebody as kind-looking as her survived in such a depressing environment.

She passed the windows that overlooked the garden area. Nancy could see the "food color" girl, planted in a wheelchair. Her eyes were glazed as saliva dripped from her open mouth. Nancy shivered with disgust.

"If you ask me, they should have thrown her in prison," said a voice that sounded like Evelyn's.

"What for?" asked a female voice. It must've belonged to another nurse.

Nancy suddenly realized that she was near the nurse's station. She stepped closer to the door.

"For starters, she demolished her house. And her mother mysteriously burned to death because of a lighted cigarette. That's a bunch of bologna," said Evelyn.

"I don't know…I feel sorry for her. Did you know that she miscarried when they admitted her?" asked the nurse.

"That's probably why she made all that fuss. She was knocked up, and she didn't want her parents to know about it," said Evelyn.

"I was pregnant," Nancy said aloud. Evelyn and the other nurse were taken aback. "And I lost the baby?"

"Dear, please, you should sit down," said the nurse.

"Glen…He took that away from me too," mumbled Nancy, incoherently.

"Ms. Thompson, you really need to calm down," said Evelyn. She reached for Nancy's arm. Nancy swung it back, and knocked Evelyn across the face.

"Don't tell me to calm down, you bitch!" screamed Nancy. "Did you think it was all funny…the way you were gossiping about me!"

The younger nurse pressed the panic button, as Evelyn held her broken nose. Blood was pouring between her fingers.

"I wish he sliced you up. Then you'd know how I feel. All of you would know how I feel!" yelled Nancy. An orderly grabbed her from behind. "Let go of me, you bastard. You wouldn't be so tough if he was attacking you…putting his knives in your face!"

Evelyn injected something into Nancy's arm. The liquid felt cold going into her body. Nancy's mouth felt like cotton, but she was still hurling insults.

It took several orderlies to pin Nancy on the gurney. She kept kicking and thrashing in her restraints.

He appeared over her again, floating in the air like a perverse devil: Freddy Krueger. Nancy stared directly into his cold-blooded eyes. She could see him waving his finger knives in her peripheral vision. But she didn't care about the glove. If Freddy killed her right then and there, she wanted to be looking straight in his eyes.

"You fucker! You took my mother, you took my friends, you took my boyfriend, and you also took my baby!" screamed Nancy at the top of her lungs.

"What is going on Evelyn?" asked Dr. Burroughs.

"I have no idea. She just attacked me without provocation," said Evelyn. She stared down the other nurse, who looked away.

"Fine, then, keep her in the restraints for the entire night," said Dr. Burroughs to the orderlies.


"Ms. Thompson," said Dr. Burroughs in his sternest voice. "I know you despise the restraints, but we had to take extreme measures."

"Where am I?" asked Nancy.

"We cannot have you make those outbursts again, Ms. Thompson," said Dr. Burroughs. "Freddy Krueger doesn't exist, remember."

"Your best friend was murdered by her jealous boyfriend. He then hung himself in prison out of guilt. Your boyfriend died from a television device that pierced his neck artery."

"My mother…" said Nancy in a drugged stupor.

"Your mother…" Dr. Burroughs cleared his throat. If anybody found out that he made some unfounded accusations, they would question his psychiatric techniques, "…died from a cigarette accident."

"You're right, Dr. Burroughs, I'm so sorry for behaving like that."

"Are you ready to be treated now?" asked Dr. Burroughs.

"Yes…" said Nancy tearfully, "I want to get better."

You'll have to play a part…just like I did.


Nancy never talked about her experiences at Columbus. When her father and stepmother picked her up from the psychiatric center two months later, the car was quiet. The only conversations that ever followed were always about school. Once Nancy earned her GED, she went back to Columbus to attend college. It was like she couldn't get out of Springwood fast enough. Even though she was on anti-depressants and an experimental dream suppressant, Nancy barely slept at night. This might have been why she was so successful in her studies. She finished her undergraduate work in two years, took the MCAT, and then entered medical school. She was determined to become a neurologist.

Donald Thompson was so proud of his daughter, feeling like the psychiatric center did her some good. He felt like Nancy had forgotten all that had happened on Elm Street. But once, while looking through her textbooks, he noticed that she was studying sleep disorders. For a moment, Donald felt hopeless about his daughter. When she came back into the room, though, he put on the best fake smile he would muster. Nancy smiled and talked about her friends, and Donald put his doubts away.

Little did Donald know that Nancy was also filled with fake smiles. There were nights that she cried herself to sleep, wondering what could have been if Freddy hadn't entered her life. Glen would be alive, and Nancy wouldn't have miscarried.

Later on, when Nancy left to study at the University of Chicago Medical Center, Donald knew why—the university had a sleep research program. So it wasn't over after all. Nancy still believed that Freddy Krueger had terrorized her.

For a time, it seemed like Nancy would never return to Springwood, Ohio. And then, she read the news about Jesse Walsh. Nancy's stomach sank when Westin Hills accepted her application for the internship. She didn't really need the internship, seeing as she was close to becoming a neurologist. But it was a good excuse to return to Springwood. She knew fate was leading her back to Elm Street. It was also an excuse to have time away from her fiancée. Nancy didn't want to get married until she finished all of her business in Springwood. She needed to fully say goodbye to Glen in her heart, and lay the past to rest. Equipped with the knowledge she gained at the University of Chicago, and her early studies about the Dream Warriors and Dream Master, Nancy headed towards an uncertain future.