Delirium (Creepypasta x reader)

•20•

The time you took off school and work to be sick had felt like years when it had really only been a week. Still, the lucid limbo you had been trapped in by your own fevered body skewed your perception of the passage of time. It almost didn't feel real, riding to school that first morning; the sun seemed artificial, like a light hovering over a terrarium. The world seemed off, somehow, like everything had been shifted slightly to one side, just enough to notice a difference without being able to pinpoint it. Were the people around you acting normal? Were they looking at you?

This feeling, thankfully, dissipated when you got off at your stop and finally entered the university campus to be replaced by the sudden lightning bolt of oh my good god I have five assignments two tests and a paper due this week. You had almost forgotten how fast paced the work environment of higher education was compared to public school.

Sometimes you wished that the tens of thousands of dollars you were handing over to this highly sophisticated scam gave you any say in your education. What else was it doing besides showing that you were voluntarily putting yourself through four-years of gruelling learning in the hopes of receiving a piece of paper with your name on it at the end?

Well, it was a very nice-looking piece of paper.

Returning to regular scheduling and classes after the unfortunate circumstances you went through felt like begrudgingly, but willingly, stepping into the gallows; where the professors were the executioners using a desk as the chopping block, and their due dates as the axe.

Your poor, metaphorical neck.

It was only thanks to your mother's email from your own school account to all your professors that you had gotten a few minor extensions. Unintended attempt at pathos as it was, it ended up having the same effect as an intended message. That one awful professor wouldn't let you take the test you missed, but fuck him, you hated his class anyway. Even if it was 10% of your grade alone and it really hurt to get a zero.

You weren't mad. Not at all. And you definitely weren't wishing him an early grave.

God.

The next issue you had occurred when your feet stuck to the floor while walking to the class you... shared with Cathy.

Oh no.

The thought hadn't even occurred to you. That you would be seeing her in class.

Wait, no. I won't. I killed her.

You choked on your spit and slapped a hand to your mouth as you started coughing, chest heaving and bulging. You turned your face to the wall in embarrassment as other people went past you, avoiding their glances at the loud coughing that filled the hall.

You hadn't... Cathy was still alive. You knew this. She had red hair now, remember? Not blue. That wasn't real. It wasn't real.

Disturbed, you shook your head violently side to side, trying to dispel the lingering dream remnants. That's right. Cathy cut and dyed her hair, and she looked completely different now. That was just a dream.

You ran your fingernails up and down the strap of your messenger bag, calming some at the familiar sound and feeling of your fingertips buzzing.

Cathy was. An issue. For one, you really, really, really did not want to see her. Or interact with her at all. She hadn't texted you at all since dropping you off at your home much worse for wear than when you had left, which was a blessing. But you weren't sure if she would do the same face to face. Cathy sometimes got over an argument quite quickly and got annoyed if you brought up your unresolved feelings. Like, it was over now, she had forgiven you, why couldn't you just get over it as well? You would apologize when it happened.