My Hockey Alpha

Chapter 98 Hypnotherapy

Nina

Minutes passed, then hours. Soon, it could’ve even been days; I had no way of knowing how long I was down there. As time ticked on, the bright fluorescent lights in my cell never faded, making me lose all sense of time. I felt myself beginning to lose my grip on reality.

I couldn’t cry or scream anymore. Not only did my tears dry up and my throat became too sore to make another sound, but also I began to realize that it was useless. No one was coming for me. Maybe Edward was right; maybe none of the people who I had come to know over the past four years were even real. Maybe it was all just a figment of my imagination…

If they were real, wouldn’t they have come to save me by now?

After an indistinguishable amount of time passed, the voices began. They were soft at first, barely even whispers.

“Nina…”

A voice called my name. I ignored it at first, but it grew stronger over time.

“Nina.”

I shook my head. “It’s not real,” I whispered to myself, my throat so raw and sore from screaming that the words hardly came out. “It’s not real…”

“Nina!!”

I jumped. I knew that voice: it was Jessica. She sounded scared, like she was screaming for help. “Jessica?” I called out, but there was no answer.

The voices stopped for quite some time. I eventually began to think that I never had really heard them to begin with. Maybe I was dreaming; somehow, I must’ve fallen asleep despite the bright fluorescent lights beaming down at me from the ceiling.

then, they started again. And it

of my bed, clear as day. Her clothes and hair were disheveled. Her skin was bloody and bruised, and there was dirt under her

fault that I died,” she said. “It’s your

swallow. “You’re not dead,” I whispered, shaking my head. She couldn’t be dead. Surely Jessica was home right now with

selfish,” Jessica continued. She walked over to the side of my bed and reached out her cold, dead hand. It smelled like dirt

and scrunched my eyes shut, repeating my mantra

real…

dirty hands for my throat. I tried to scream,

my mother and my brother. My mother was holding a baby wrapped in the strangely patterned blanket from the photograph. She was bouncing it and

she screamed as she began

kill it, but only the same snarls came out of my mouth.

I watched as his body withered into nothing. His flesh melted off of his bones, leaving

its jaws to speak, but only worms

shut my eyes again, wishing I could cover my ears as the

real…

all of a sudden:

a sigh of relief to see that I was alone once more; for the first time, being alone was a

loved you,

clothing. His curly brown hair was still ruffled from running through the streets as we sprinted away. If I lifted

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