Author's Note: This is my first piece that I actually am interested in, and depending on feedback, I will most likely continue with.

The barely audible ballpoint pen scratched over the paper. Her bracelets jingled on her wrist as she slid her hand from left to right, writing fluently. The words that she had desperately tried to say during her occasional calls with the redhead tumbled out as she wrote. The small brunette sighed as she placed the pen down, drumming her fingers mindlessly, her cheeks puffed in frustration as she let out the air that was trapped inside. Beca balled her hands into fists repeatedly, cracking her knuckles as she continued.

After painstaking moments, Beca placed her pen again and rolled back in her chair, placing her hands on either side of her temple as she leant back. Her muscles quivered with tension and anger and regret, a cacophony of feelings and emotions. Getting up from her chair, she hovered over her laptop and finalized the idea she'd had for months. Pressing the purchase ticket button drained her of all strength. She flopped onto the bed, her body bouncing carelessly for a moment before she settled down on top of the covers, drifting off into sleep.

Beca wandered through an obscenely white room. The room smelled of antiseptic and the endless drone of crying children sounded throughout the echoing hall. Each step was agonizingly loud. As her foot delicately touched the ground, it sounded like millions of beaten up converse had stomped on the ground below her. The floor shook with anger as she stepped on, breaking into a run towards the only door in the room. She gingerly reached out and tugged at the handle, mumbling as her hand slipped off the surface. She looked down and gasped in horror. Her hand was covered in a thin red sheen of blood along with the chrome handle, pooling blood on the floor, staining it's pristine white shine. Reluctantly, Beca opened the door swiftly, stepping inside. Instead of the blinding white, this room was full of warm colors that felt like home. The air smelled of cinnamon and pinecones, the scent wafting into her nose with each small breath.

Gentle beeping of multiple machines drifted throughout the room. The brunette turned hear head slowly to the stiff bed in the center of the room. A white plush dummy sat on the bed rather hilariously, it's fake arms stretched out and it's legs stiff as boards. She stepped towards it, poking the side. She pulled back her hand when where she touched turned a bloody red. She stepped back, terrified. The color gone from her face, almost the same shade as the doll infront of her.

Suddenly, the walls had begun to fade into cooler winter colors. The once welcoming dark reds turned to a cold harsh dark blue. The yellows that screamed happiness faded to an icy gray of bitterness and disdain. Beca felt unwelcome. She turned around quickly and sprinted out of the room, stepping over the large pool of blood from the door. Her feet left bloody smeared footprints in their wake. The white walls were closing in on her, dragging against the ground creating a deafening sound. Her running slowed to a brisk jog to a walk to a near limp. The walls pressed against her shoulders, forcing her to swivel sideways. Right as Beca shut her eyes, coming to terms with her end, her vision faded to black.

The girl woke up in a cold sweat, her sheets astrewn across her body. Her laptop lay broken on the ground, a result of her violent thrashing. Beca sat up, panting heavily. Her hand reached out blindly, groping for her clock. Turning the screen towards her, she groaned as it read 3 A.M. She'd only slept for four hours and she had already scared herself into not sleeping. She'd been having the same dream every night for the past two weeks now. The white room, the blood-coated door, the bleeding dummy, ending with her inevitable death that she never met in the dream. Deciding that she would not be getting any further sleep, she stood up and arched her back groggily. She paced into the small kitchenette on the tips of her toes, careful not to stir Kimmy Jin. Beca had become strangely attached to the mute girl. It was one of those relationships that you just nod at each other, agreeing to disagree, but they both knew that if they had different roommates their lives would be very different.

Beca thought of making some soup or some other generic comfort food to calm her down, but that required moving pans and waiting for their second-hand stovetop to heat up... the amount of effort just thinking of the steps to make the soup exhausted Beca. She placed her elbows on the cold countertop, sighing. She stood up straight and carefully walked back to her bed, fixing the sheets before lying back down. After much internal struggle, she faded back to a slumber, praying to no one in particular to let her escape that dream.