Nightmare Hour by R.L. Stine

Author:R.L. Stine [Stine, R.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

I didn’t think I’d ever get to sleep. Nurses were talking out in the hall, and I heard a girl coughing and coughing in a room nearby. But to my surprise I drifted quickly into a deep sleep.

I had a lot of strange dreams.

In one dream I was being chased down a long, green hall by someone I couldn’t see. In another dream my dog was bigger than me. He carried me around in his teeth. Then I turned into a grinning jack-o’-lantern and rolled away.

But in my most vivid dream I was in the hospital. I saw a boy at the foot of my bed. He held two clipboards with charts in his hand. I could read the name on the top of only one chart: MARTIN CHARLES.

The boy hung that chart on my hospital bed. Then, smiling, he crept away, carrying the other chart under his arm.

When I awoke, I wasn’t sure if I was still dreaming or not.

Two men in white lab coats stood beside my bed. They wheeled a long cart up to me.

One of them picked up the chart from the end of my bed. “This is him,” he told his partner.

“Huh?” I gazed up at them, still half asleep. What is happening? I wondered.

They picked me up gently and slid me onto the cart.

“Easy does it, Martin,” one of them said, untangling my arm from the bedsheet.

“No--wait--” I choked out. I tried to sit up. “I’m not Martin!”

One of them held me down. The other checked the chart again, reading the name out loud: “Martin Charles.”

“Let’s go,” his partner said.

They wheeled me to the door.

“No--stop!” I screamed. “I’m not Martin! Really! You’re making a big mistake! He--he’s Martin!” I pointed back to the room.

They pushed the cart down the empty hall. The wheels clattered loudly over the tile floor.

“They warned us you’d say that,” the taller one said. “They said you’ve been lying about your name since you arrived.”

“They told us just to ignore you,” his partner added.

“But I’m not Martin!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Please--you’ve got to listen! I’m not Martin! I’m not Martin! I’m not Martin!”

They pushed the cart into the open elevator.

Way down the hall Martin poked his head out of our room. He waved good-bye, a big grin on his face.

Then the elevator doors shut behind me.

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