Nillium Neems Read Free

spitting in his face and saying
something suitably rebellious. I’d tried that once, a long time
ago, and it did not end well. These days I make do with lying back
in bed and closing my eyes.
    "It is impossible to not dream, Miss Neems."
he continued.
    My eyes were closed, but I could tell by his
voice that he was still circling around me. Tick tock, tick tock, a
human clock with a broken gear.
    "Perhaps you do not
remember your dreams, Miss Neems, or pretend not to remember, but
you do dream. To
not dream, would indicate that your very brain has shut down during
the night."
    "Maybe it has," I replied brightly. "Maybe
all of your endless droning about dreams has finally killed me
mentally."
    The sound of footsteps ceased as he paused.
I’m sure his eyes were narrowed at that one. Higgins was not
amused. His footsteps continued a moment later, a slightly quicker,
more frenetic pace.
    "Galantamine." he said after a while. I
heard the rustle of what I could only assume was a pill bottle
being pulled from the deep pockets of his white doctor’s coat.
    I cracked my eyes open a tadge and sure
enough, he was holding a shiny white bottle of pills. There was no
label on it and somehow, that worried me.
    "Galantamine?" I asked. "Sounds like a
parasite."
    He smiled at that, but his smile held no
mirth in it. Just coldness.
    "Galantamine is a drug used
primarily for Alzheimer’s and other memory impairments. What I
have here ," and
he brandished the bottle at me, "Is Galantrasol, an experimental
derivative of Galantamine, which is supposed to be much, much
stronger. Perhaps it will help in your... inability to remember
your dreams."
    "I’m guessing it’s not FDA approved?"
    He smiled again in response.
    "I did say it was experimental. Now open
wide," and he shook two pills into his hand, holding them out
towards me.
    It was about then that I tried to bite him.
Hey, you would have too in my position. Of course Higgins was used
to such antics, and pulled back immediately from my lunge, then
lunging forwards himself with one arm outstretched, catching me
around the throat and pushing me back onto the bed. He squeezed,
holding me down till I started to choke for air.
    The moment my mouth cracked open he dropped
two pills inside, loosening his grip around my throat so I could
swallow while moving his other hand to press against my mouth,
forcing me to do so. The pills slid down my throat and I felt like
I’d just swallowed slime. Which I guess wasn’t a feeling too far
from the truth.
    "There," he said, letting go and leaning
back from me. "That wasn’t so hard, was it? Now be a good girl and
get your sleep. And remember," here he tapped his forehead smartly
with a finger, "if you just dream, it will all get better. I
promise you that one."
    Higgins turned on his heel
and left. I lay there, defeated, starting to feel weird from this
new poison. I thought I was a mushroom after a while, growing out
of the mattress and just searching for sunlight, yet always living
in darkness. Mind you, that might not have been the drugs talking.
I am crazy after
all, and tend to think a lot of weird stuff.
    My limbs felt off and my brain a bit fuzzy,
but after an hour or two it started to wear off. In all honesty, I
would have quite enjoyed it if the pills had worked, since I’ve
never been able to experience the sensation that people call
‘dreaming’. But of course, they didn’t. Now I just felt tired and
angry.
    My anger only grew as I lay
there, anger at my helpless nature. I decided to take it out on
something, anyone, anything just to show that I wouldn’t put up with this any
longer. I thought about my untrustworthy clock at first, but it was
too high for me to reach. Beating up my Bible wouldn’t do any good
either, for I suspected it would find a way to get back at
me.
    Then I thought about Mousy. I leaned over
the side of the bed to check beneath it, but he wasn’t there. The
smug little rodent never is about when I need him!
    A lack