Peter's POV

My eyes open to the sound of ambulance sirens. I tried to get up, but I felt a hand on my chest pushing me down.

“Hey Peter, I know you're very confused, but we need to get you to the hospital ASAP, so please try not to move," a woman sitting beside the bed I was lying on told me.

I was hurting everywhere, and again, I had to ask, What the fuck happened? Just a few minutes ago, I was looking at this sculpture of a scorpion, and now I'm in an ambulance.

I tried to talk, but my voice was hoarse, and I started to scratch my throat as it was so dry.

The woman saw me, and I was kind of embarrassed, but what could I do?

“Do you need anything?” the woman asked.

I couldn't talk, so I made a drinking motion with my hands so she would know, but the woman just looked at me horrified and called out to one of her co-workers. I knitted my brows together. What did I do?

As her co-worker, who was a man, came over to us, the woman started whispering to him.

I heard her murmur, “Be careful with that one. I asked him what he wanted, and he started doing these weird hand motions.”

What was that supposed to mean?

“I think he was trying to say that he wants a dick down his throat, so maybe you finally have a chance.”

I started coughing. What the actual fuck am I supposed to say? First of all, I'm straight, and second of all, why would I want that happening to me if I can't even stand up and have to go to the hospital?

The two, who I assume to be paramedics or something, looked at me, and the woman started to leave, not before giving her colleague a huge smile and a thumbs up.

I was so glad I was able to talk a little bit. “Whatever she said to you was a lie,” I coughed out. “I'm straight, and I need water.”

“Oh, right,” he sighed, giving me a bottle of water. I have to say I was a bit guilty, but I don't know what that lady was thinking.

We slowly fell into a long, awkward, and unpleasant silence.

Thankfully, a few minutes later, we made our way to the hospital, and I was wheeled into a room. I was met by a man called Dr. Drew, and he told me that I had been unconscious for a few days and I was speechless.

I was basically in a coma for days, and I didn't even know. By now, my body felt fine, but I still had a headache and a nasty gash on the back of my head. Fortunately, I didn't have to get surgery, but unfortunately, I had to stay in the hospital for a few days, which I hated.

They prescribed me some medicine, and a couple of moments later I was “greeted” by my friends.

“Oh my God, Peter, I heard what happened. Are you ok?” Gwen asked.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, dipshit? I thought you were dead,” Michelle scowled, trying to sound angry, but it was obvious from the tears in her eyes that she had been crying.

“What's up, man?” Harry chimed in, and I laughed at how chill he was considering the circumstances.

“I'm fine, guys,” I told them.

“You were in a coma for four days, Peter. Do you know how we felt? They wouldn't even let us see you, and now you're just like, “I'm fine.” You're not fine. I won't let you be fine.” Michelle sniffled, tears forming in her eyes.

“Michelle, c'mere,” I told her, and I gave her a hug.

“I really didn't mean to make you guys worried,” I explained.

“It's alright,” Gwen answered with a sad smile.

“So... how many days do you have to stay here?” questioned Harry.

“A couple of days, but I don't know for sure.”

“Ahh, ok,” lamented Harry.

It felt like we'd been talking for only a few seconds before they had to go. I was bored, so I went to the bathroom. Not for fun, I did actually have to use the bathroom, and I felt sleepy, so after I took medicine, I fell asleep.

I woke up in a room filled with darkness.

“We meet again, Peter,” a croaky voice said, buried in the darkness.

It was the same voice I heard a few days ago.

“Um, hi?” I faltered, my voice going higher.

“This is part of your story,” he told me.

“What? What are you talking about?”

There was a whisper in my ear: “You'll figure it out soon. I just need to find a way to change the ending, and then everything will go according to plan.”

I looked around me, but to my surprise, no one was there. I'm not going to lie; his breath stinks, but I have to find him. What is his plan, and why am I part of it?

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I stepped into the darkness. There was a conveniently placed flashlight in my back pocket, so I took it out and turned it on. It was so much better.

I walked closer to the door on the other side. I could see a little light when I touched the doorknob. It was freezing, but I didn't really care. I slowly turned the door knob, and when I opened it, in front of me there was a kitchen. I think I was in someone’s house, but I wasn't sure.

I tiptoed into the kitchen, and the door slammed behind me. I turned around to try and open the door, and when I turned back around, I was met with a man with a snake face.

“BOO!” The snake bellowed, and I hate to admit it, but I screamed.

I woke up in my room, breathing heavily and sweating profusely. Did I just have a nightmare?

That's weird because the last time I had a nightmare was when I was fifteen.

I quickly got out of bed expecting to have a headache, but to my surprise, I was perfectly fine.

I thought I had to stay in the hospital for a few days. Whatever I didn't want to anyway.

I took a shower and made myself some breakfast. It's a Friday, so at least it was nearly the weekend.

As I was washing the dishes, I heard a car horn from outside my door. I quickly finished washing up and went outside to see my friends waiting for me in Harry's car.

“Hi?” I said, looking puzzled.

“Hey Peter, c'mon, we don't want to be late." Michelle greeted.

I was so confused. “But wasn't I meant to stay in the hospital for a few days?” I questioned.

“What are you talking about? You never went to the hospital,” Gwen asked, confused.

What? That's impossible unless I suffer from memory loss. I remember myself in the hospital yesterday.

“Yes, I was, remember, I was in the hospital yesterday?” I told them.

They all looked at each other and shrugged.

I know they're obviously playing a prank on me.

“Oh, you guys are playing a prank on me. Give it up, it's not funny.”

“Peter, we seriously don't know what you're talking about,” Harry corrected.

I didn't know what to say. Was me going to the hospital just a dream? No, it couldn't be. I swear it was real.

“Peter, are you okay? Do you actually need to go to the hospital?” Michelle joked.

“Tell our professors that I'm sick.”

“Um, ok,” Gwen responded.

“Are you sure you're alright?”

"Yeah, I'm fine.”

They sped off, and I walked to the art gallery.

**

When I got to the art gallery, I was greeted by none other than Mark. I was so mad at him; if he had never asked me to stay the night, I wouldn't have been in a coma for four days!

“Hi Peter” Mark greeted.

I rolled my eyes and walked away. I didn't have the strength to deal with him today, or, for that matter, never.

He just shrugged and walked away, and I made my way to the small group of people whom I had to guide through the gallery.

**

When I was done, I went back to the art and soul exhibit to find the sculpture that caused everything, but in its place was a small painting.

At this point, I was flabbergasted. What was going on? I don't know if I'm hallucinating or if this is reality.

Whatever, I thought I didn't have the time for this. I had a meeting at 2 p.m, and it was almost time, so I made my way towards the boss' office, and I sat down in my seat.

**

The meeting was so boring. My boss just talked about our shareholders and sponsors and what we can do to get more customers. I tried not to fall asleep so I wouldn't be called out in front of my colleagues.

When the meeting was finally over, our boss dismissed us. I was so ready to get out of here because, after today, I get a couple of days off. But as I made my way towards the exit, Mark and I were stopped by our boss.

“There is an issue I would like to discuss with both of you,” Mr. Sanchez, our boss, stated.

I couldn't help but internally roll my eyes and scoff. I just wanted to leave this shitty place, and now I have to stay here longer.

"Sure,” I responded with fake enthusiasm.

“What's up?” Mark questioned.

“A couple of days ago, there was an incident at one of the exhibits, and when I asked the security guards who was there, they were sure that they didn't see anyone.”

Is he talking about the weird sculpture that I touched that got me in a coma? I'm pretty sure the security guards found me when I was unconscious, but I don't know anymore, nothing makes sense.

“Ok? So what's the problem?” I asked.

“The last time I checked, you, Mr. Williams, are meant to stay for a few hours after closing to be able to unlock the doors for the security guards. Why weren't you there?”

“Um, I'm pretty sure I asked Peter to do it." Mark replied, and I stood there in shock, so it was real. I wasn't just dreaming but how does Mark know what happened, but others don't know what the fuck is going on.

“Mr. Williams I think if Peter was there, the guards would have told me, and besides, you shouldn't have asked Peter anyway, it's not part of his job.”

"Oh, right, I'm sorry,” Mark apologised.

“I'm afraid, Mr. Williams, that I can't accept an apology; you know how I feel about them.”

"Yes, I know, Mr. Sanchez, but it was an accident, I didn't mean it,” fretted Mark.

And I felt really awkward. Why do I even have to be here? They're not even talking to me. I cursed under my breath. I'm certain I said every curse in the dictionary.

“You've been having one too many accidents, and just know I'm doing this for the benefit of our workplace.”

“No, but I've been working here for ten years,” Mark says, his voice getting louder.

“I know but-”

“I helped you get more customers; this business would've just been one of those small galleries people would go to if they were bored or hiding from the police,” Mark interjects.

“Mr. Williams again I know, but I think it's for the best.”

Mark started yelling, “You're nothing without me; just see when I'm gone, you, and this business will be over.”

“I'll give you a week to clear out your desk. I'm sorry, but you're fired, Mr. Williams.”

Mark scoffed and dashed out of the room. I stood there awkwardly with the boss.

He cleared his throat. “I'm sorry you had to witness that, Mr. Johnston. Please have a great rest of your week and see you next week.”

I nodded. “Yeah, see you next week.”

Would I even make it to next week? I guess we'll have to wait and see…

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Author's Note

Good day, everyone! You probably didn't expect a chapter today. I finally finished all of my exams. My summer break begins in a few days, so expect plenty more chapters. I hope you enjoy this chapter and have a wonderful remainder of your week!