Space

AILS MED
Evelyn awoke with a start, swept with relief at the sight of her room.
She could feel beads of perspiration drip down her forehead as her heart began to even out its erratic
rhythm. She felt a dampness underneath her fingers when she pushed herself up.
“Shit.”
It appeared that she had sweated through her bed sheets once more.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed and grabbed the notebook that she had placed on the bed
stand. With the pen that she had left inside, she began to write fervently:
I entered a corridor that was bright and blinding, accompanied by another. It was meant to
be a simple search and rescue, but whatever it was inside had yearned for something more.
The word ‘sacrifice’ kept being mentioned again and again as if a crowd of spectators had
been inside. I felt uneasy and unsafe.
She pressed the pen against her forehead as she tried to recall the details of her dream.
Night terrors had plagued her ever since her last mission, vivid images of her death now a near
constant. She couldn’t remember a time when she had a good night’s rest, or a dream where happiness
was the outcome. At times she wondered if her dreams were punishments for her past sins.
“Ugh, this is pointless.”
Her mind still a blank, she tossed the notebook across the room. She had never been much of a
wordsmith in the first place, and she only recorded her dreams at the advice of her brother. For
research purposes, was what her brother had said. Evelyn, on the other hand, had preferred to occupy
her hands with more important things.
She got up and proceeded to pull the sheets off her bed. With an unnecessary strength, she crumpled it
up, as if to release pent up frustration.
“If only I could squash this stupid trauma away.”
She made the journey towards the laundry room then, bed sheets in hand. The entire campus was
dimly lit and she was all the more thankful for it, for she hadn't bothered to change out of her
pyjamas.
Bzzz. Bzzz.
Evelyn felt the communicator on her wrist vibrate. She turned the screen towards her face:
Professor James Smith
“Hang up.”
She didn't feel like talking to the man that the people here so ardently adored. His daily check ups,
though kindly intentioned, had vexed her so.
“I had a feeling that you were dodging my calls.” a deep voice said from within the shadows.
“Motherfu--” startled, Evelyn dropped her bed sheets, “Why would you do that??”