"The Nightmare" by Arushi Kashyap is a spooky tale of a dream gone wrong. It is told in eight parts, with each part whisking the reader into a new dreamscape. This is Chapter Eight.
*Content Warning: Blood, death, rot, some violence
"The Nightmare" by Arushi Kashyap
Chapter Eight: The Hollow Girl
I opened my eyes.
Again.
Image Description: A creepy, blurred, black and white image of a pale woman photographed from the chest up with her hands framing her face.
Credit: Vitor Brasileiro / Pexels
But the weight was different this time. Not just physical. Existential. The sheets clung to me. My breath dragged like it was moving through syrup. The room was dim, quiet. Familiar. I was home. I think. The air smelled of jasmine— And rot. I sat up slowly. And there he was. At the foot of my bed. My father. Dressed just like he always was. Buttoned shirt. Gentle eyes. Hands folded in his lap. He turned to me. And smiled. “You’re safe now,” he whispered. My throat tightened.
“Dad...?”
He reached forward and brushed a strand of hair from my face. I leaned into his palm. I wanted to believe it. God, I wanted to believe it. But then— Something shifted. His touch grew colder. His smile didn’t move. It just stayed. Too long. Too still.
“You don’t have to fight anymore,” he said.
His other hand moved behind me. Pressed into my back. And then— He pushed. Down. Into water. I thrashed. He held me steady. My lungs screamed. My limbs kicked against the porcelain. His grip was unbreakable. I looked up. His face was blank now. No love. No grief. Just void behind the eyes. The water surged into my mouth and nose. It filled my lungs like cement. Burning. Blinding. I fought. Fought until the panic gave way to silence. Until my limbs went numb. Until my thoughts scattered like ashes in the tide. And then— I stopped.
The pain faded. Everything slowed. And in that stillness... I saw her. The white room. The bathtub. A girl floating. Face turned away. Me. Again.
And in the silence, something whispered:
“You never left.”
The dream never ended, because I was the dream.
The End.
About the Author
Arushi Kashyap is a fiction writer from India who loves exploring different genres—from haunting thrillers to tender tales of love and loss. She finds inspiration in the blurred lines between dream and reality, often weaving emotion and imagination into every story she writes.
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