2.

Rhys sat in the comfy chair slouched outside the doctor's office of Westin Hills Mental Institution in a haze. The nurses had given him some drugs to calm him down and put him to sleep while they stitched his arm up. But Rhys knew better and managed to spit most of the pills out. His eyes burned as he sat under the bright florescent lights.

"No sleep." He muttered as he began to fidget, bouncing his foot up and down. "No sleep, no meds." He bit at nails, which were already nubs. He hated pills, seeing as he had three different prescriptions already. Rhys really didn't want to add a forth one. He couldn't sleep anyway. That nightmare was too real.

Too real. He knew those gashes on his arm weren't self inflicted, weren't some delusional suicide attempt during a blackout. That man, the man in the dream was real, he just knew. The nurses and doctors knew it.

When they were stitching up his arm back at the E.R. of Springwood General, before the doctor sent them to Westin, Rhys started telling his mom his dream and they all stopped and stared, even the male nurse walking an old man in the hallway stopped to stare. Not in the Your-Just-Being-Delusional way, but in the This-Is-Bad way. Fred Krueger was real and Rhys was gonna find out who he was. He pulled out his cell phone and called up a friend.

"Hello?" Paris answered, her husky Brooklyn accented voice sounded super awake even though it was six am.

"Hey Paris, it's me." Rhys said rubbing his eyes.

"Oh what's up, Reese Cup." She asked.

Rhys choose to ignore the fact that she'd just called him "Reese Cup". "I need a favor. Actually, I need two."

"Go on."

"Pick up Mika on your way to school."

"Why?"

"Just do it!"

"Alright, alright what's the second thing?"

Rhys leaned forward in his chair, looked around to see if anyone was in earshot, and when he was sure no one was he said, "Look up a person named 'Fred Krueger'." The cuts on his arm began to sting.

"Who the hell is that?"

"Please Paris just look for me. I'll buy you food." He bribed.

"Alright but no being cheap when you get my food." She said in her sternest voice.

"Thanks Paris, you're a doll. Bye." He smiled and hung up. He leaned back in the chair, pushing his fingers into his eyes, and momentarily stopping the throbbing, achy feeling that they were sending through his head. "Coffee." He said. "Coffee is good. Coffee will keep me awake." He jumped up and headed off in the direction of the cafeteria.

He dug around in his pocket and pulled out five bucks, more than enough for coffee. He made it to the cafeteria and put his money in the coffee machine. As the machine poured his coffee he heard a soft voice. Someone was singing. Chanting really. Rhys began to follow the sound, letting his feet lead the way.

Left, Left, Right, Left. Deeper and deeper, further and further, until Rhys found himself lost in unfamiliar territory. He looked around. The walls were stark white, the floor looked liked a light gray and white checker board and the glaring, intense florescent lights made his eyes burn more. Patients were roamed the halls in a comatose, almost zombie like trance.

Rhys stuck out like a sore thumb among them. They wore plain white pajamas while he wore baggy black jeans, his red hoody with black and white skulls and crossbones on it, and his white tank top that still had bright red bloodstains on it. They gave him the chills. They all hummed the same haunting tune and they all looked so strange.

One patient, a tall pale guy had a black and purple bruise that went all the way around his neck, the kind you'd see on a person who'd been hung. And Rhys had brushed up against a small black girl that wore large thick glasses; she looked like a walking mummy and her clothes hung of her bony body. Another thing that he'd noticed was that they all had bags under their eyes, like they hadn't slept in years.

"One, Two Freddy's coming for you." Rhys stopped dead in tracks and turned to find that he was staring at the door to a padded cell.

"Three, Four Better lock your door. Five, Six grab your crucifix." He looked through the small window on the door and saw girl with long wave mouse brown hair with a streak of gray in it, huddled up in the corner. Her big blue eyes stared blankly at the ceiling.

"Seven, Eight Gonna stay up late." Her voice dropping down to a croaking whisper as her empty eyes focused on Rhys and bloody tears began to run down her porcelain white face. "Nine, Ten He's back again." Rhys nearly jumped out his skin when a hand suddenly clamped onto his shoulder. He whipped his head around to see his mother and Dr. Fretwell. Rhys had fallen asleep after talking to Paris. "It's okay, baby it was just a dream." His mother said soothingly smoothing his hair back.

"So we meet again." The good doctor said with a slight smile on her thin glossy lips. Rhys narrowed his eyes Dr. F, whom Rhys considered to be the pain in the neck. "Come in my office. We must talk about your new medication." She said leading him back to the office ignore the fact that his arm had yet again started bleeding.