The Unseen by JL Bryan Page B

her lifestyle...
    On the other hand, she had to admit that going home and letting her mom take care of her had its own very deep appeal, in spite of all the inconvenience and drama.  It might be comforting.  Maybe she really did need to spend time with her brother, too.
    “Okay,” Cassidy said. “I’ll think about it.  But if I do, it’s just for a few days until I can work again.  Then I have to go make money.”
    “Good.” Her mother nodded and allowed a small smile to break through the tension on her face. “That’s good, Cassidy.”
    “Have you seen my phone?  I need to text Barb.”
    “Your purse is over here.  One of the EMT’s grabbed it for you.”
    Cassidy dug into her purse, relieved to see all her simple but critical little possessions in place—phone, cash, keys, credit card.
    She barely had time to thumb a message to Barb before the nurses arrived to transfer her to the operating room.
     

     

Chapter Eight
     
    Cassidy received a local anesthetic rather than a general, owing to both her head trauma and the outrageous pharmaceutical cocktail already present in her bloodstream.
    Dr. Spiegelman and staff worked behind a sheet so Cassidy didn’t have to watch them cut open her leg and nail together her cracked thigh bone.
    Cassidy lay back and looked up at the institutional ceiling tiles above, wishing she had some news about Peyton.  According to her dream, he’d cracked his ribs but he was stable.  According to her dreams, though, little monsters were everywhere, nibbling on people like invisible fish, neither seen nor felt.
    As the surgery went on, her eyelids drooped.  Then she saw them, transparent little worms uncoiling in the air, their bodies thick with bristles and little gray lumps that she first thought were tumors.  Then, as the worms continued to uncoil, she realized the tumors were actually small eyes peering out among the bristles, loosely rooted in the worms’ sides by a gory red mesh of arteries and nerves.
    The worms’ mouths flared open into wide circles as they drifted down toward her in a slow spiral.  She could faintly see the overhead lights and the ceiling tiles through their bodies.
    Cassidy wanted to wave at them, but her body felt frozen on the table.  She could turn her head or twitch her fingertips, but not much else.
    She closed her eyes and willed the things to go away, a trick that sometimes worked for a little while.  When she opened them, the worms were still there, drifting down toward her face, but they had faded and grown more transparent, like two-dimensional creatures cut out of clear plastic film.
    Just a dream , she reminded herself. 
    She told herself the same thing again when the spider emerged from a corner and crawled upside down across the ceiling toward the operating table.  It was about three feet wide, from one leg-tip to another, its skin a clear membrane with the purple and red hulks of its organs visible within, floating in an inky black fluid.  The organs sloshed and squished as the creature walked.
    Not real , she told herself again, but she could feel herself trembling inside, trying not to scream.      The rational side of her brain knew the creatures were imaginary, but the rest of her body didn’t seem to get the message.  The spider in particular was larger and much clearer than the little things she usually saw.  It was detailed, not fuzzy and vague around the edges.
    The uncoiling worms moved in on her head, their mouths stretched open and extending tendrils toward her eyes and nose.  The worms were just colorless, transparent lines now, like quick sketches drawn by some mad artist.
    Her heart beat faster, and she strained again to lift her arms, then to turn her head away from the approaching creatures.  She couldn’t move much.
    She forced herself to close her eyes.
    Go away , she thought at them as hard as she could.  Go the fuck AWAY .
    She opened her eyes again, trying to steel herself for the sight of the