The Fall
Melonie gasped as she sat up in bed. The springs of the ancient twin mattress jabbed into her thighs, but she hardly felt them. Her breath came in irregular, deep gulps as she overcame the dream images. It seemed so real. She could still taste the copper tang of blood.  “I thought if you kicked the bucket in a dream, you died.” She said wryly to the empty room. “Guess not.” Sliding out from under the neon green sheets, she padded barefoot towards the kitchen. The only light came from the clock glowing dimly on the microwave. “Great, only three more hours ‘till it's time to wake up.” She yawned. As she reached for a glass, she froze. Her hand shivered like a flamingo in a snowstorm. “Jeez, it was only a dream.” She shook her head and forced her arm to still. “Control, control, you must learn control.” She muttered under her breath as she poured the water. When the smiley-face cup was half full, she placed the pitcher back in the fridge. As she shuffled back to her room, she tripped over her fuzzy blue slippers. Slipping them on, she glanced over to the glass door. “Oh, who cares? I’m not sleepy.” She turned and wandered towards the side door. With a slight whoosh, the door swung open and cold air swept into the room. The crescent moon lit the third floor balcony in a soft blue glow and Orion’s Belt flickered in the dark- purple sky. Melonie set her glass down on the plastic railing and leaned over to see Orion’s face. A crack echoed through the muted night air. A crash, a thud, the glass shattered. 
The catwalk shuddered as he walked towards the light plugs. Dr. Juego had just taken his beginning acting class up here, and he couldn’t believe someone had forgotten to fasten the safety wire on one of the lights. And just as he was discussing safety precautions with the kids! The shuddering of the catwalk seemed amplified, but he always felt a little unsteady when he was up here. “If thirty college kids didn’t bring this thing down, I’m certainly not going to!” He mumbled to himself as he fastened the safety wire. The metal creaked loudly and, as Dr. Juego stood up, he could feel the world tilt beneath him. Running for solid ground, he forgot the overhang and with a hollow, wet thunk his head snapped back, he stumbled, and flipped backwards over the safety rail. His scream echoed through the theatre. The curtain waved gently in response.
He awoke. White light, hard table, cold room. He shivered and glanced down, groggily. Clad only in his boxers, he was freezing. “What? Did I forget to pay the gas bill? Jeez, turn up the heat!” He whispered as he sat up. Something tugged at his head and wouldn’t let go. Closing his eyes, Dr. Juego reached up to feel his head. A Medusa’s tangle of wires grew from his shaven head. Working them loose, Dr. Juego sat on the edge of the table rubbing his head. His brush of salt and pepper hair was gone. Thoroughly confused, he squinted into the light surrounding him. The last thing he remembered was the fall. He shivered. “This has to be the coldest hospital I’ve ever been in.” He whispered to himself. Dr. Juego stood. His bare feet smacked loudly on the white linoleum. Almost blinded by the intense white light, he stubbed his toe on a metal table leg.