I awoke to find myself soaked in sweat and breathing hard. I could not remember my dream, but something had seriously bothered me.
You see I am a bit paranoid, but I've never gotten that worked up over a dream I couldn't even remember at the moment.
My name is Shannon Wilder and I've been in a mental institution for the past two years.
That is up until today. Today I get out. They told me I'm "cured". Whatever that means.
About three years ago, Valley Springs, my hometown, started getting weird radio transmissions from a place about an hour down the road. What was it called? Oh yeah, Springwood.
I heard they kept screaming some name over the radio. (Pretty crazy if you ask me.) Well, a few days later kids started acting crazy here, too. Lasted like that for a year.
I remember the day they took me. The night before I had complained of bad dreams to my parents.
Next morning, I find out they called the doctors at Valley Springs Institution for Ill-Minded Young Adults (Nice ring to it, huh?) and they "advised I attend their program for a little while".
Well, it turns out a "little while" means about two years.
I just can't imagine how everything has changed. I wonder if there are still crazed people running around.
Crazy people yelling his name. What was his name? Was he in my dream? I'm so confused.
The medication the doctors gave me is supposed to stop me from dreaming. Stop me from...remembering?