For English

Science is prevalent in all aspects of life. Except in dreams. That’s where science tries to compensate by informing the people of the stages of sleep that a person goes through.  
What they haven’t realised is that during the sleeping stages; the body heals itself from whatever is plaguing it. And if encouraged correctly, with sleepwalkers inducing the brain, the body is often able to heal itself completely.
A broken leg takes a matter of an hour. A malignant tumour takes three.
And right now, our researchers are working on a way to heal a body from death. Conceptually, it’s possible. The body can be regenerated, and there would probably be a limitation on how long the person could be dead for, to be revived again. For if the mind or soul no longer existed, there were no dreams to enter.
So far, however, the research shows that it can be a long time; longer than the Earth’s existence in the desolate universe. This would help us gain multiple opportunities; finally we would be capable to determine what would happen to the soul after the body died.  

Where the problem lies, however, is society. Society is corrupt in all senses. Not having a brain of their own, they follow what the governments proclaim, amusingly resembling the Pied Piper leading the children off a cliff. If anyone was to get ahold of our information; of our ideas, and experiments; the power that is held in our hands could be used in the wrong way; to damage the body as opposed to heal it. 
I am a sleepwalker. My husband, Rory, had died a month ago through a murder, and I was approached by an agency that had gone through all my possessions, my private information, everything and everyone that I’d ever been associated with. I would not give up until I brought him back to life; even if it cost me my death. His dead body, along with multiple others, lay cold, pale and dead on the ice counters, in an attempt to keep the organs somewhat intact.

“Ready to go under?” The operative looked at me anxiously; sweat dripping down her face, even though the room was cold. This was the first time we were going to attempt to revive the dead, and Rory was our initial subject. I had been given a set of instructions, that involved stimulating the brain again, and then coaxing my husband’s subconscious out. Due to our close relationship, the company had deemed that his mind would seek mine out; as a solace from all the pain and misery experienced on the other side. My insides were trying to claw themselves out, and I was close to hyperventilating; taking deep breaths. If I botched this up; we were going to shut down this idea, only using our abilities to heal people.
I nodded, gingerly climbing up on the table before helping the operative attach myself to the bed. Everything that my spiritual body did would be reflected by my physical form. Since this was our first time, I had to expect the worst. I had to expect the unexpected.

The operative extracted the syringe, almost dropping it leaving streaks of moisture on the outer packaging. She wiped her clammy hands hurriedly against her uniform, before placing it on the table next to me. This needle was large; perhaps the extra dosage to keep me sedated for a longer period of time. I nodded again, and once again, she rubbed her hands on her uniform before picking up the syringe, situating the tip of the needle on the outside of my wrist, before releasing the sedative through my system. I cried out in pain, as I felt the needle exit my body – but I quickly got bleary-eyed.
Had.

To.

Concentrate.

N…

 ~

“Mel?” I heard a voice, so clear and bright, clouded with confusion. “How did you get here?”
I opened my eyes, and once I saw him standing there, looking at me – eyebrows furrowed, I closed them quickly again. Lifting a hand, I cast my hand around around where I was sleeping. Grass. Freshly cut, from the identical bristles. There was no smell in here; but they’d warned me about that. Apparently, the ability to smell was forgotten within the first week of death.
Of course, this was all theoretical. I opened my eyes cautiously, and saw a field. Beautifully maintained; there were patches of flowers around, and a whole section was obviously reserved for the fruit.

“Have you done this?” I asked quietly, running my hands through the hordes of flowers; realising that they were all chrysanthemums; my favourites.
He looked at me, murmuring a tinny yes. I’d never expected it to be this easy to find him. Even healing took longer than this. Instead of taking a long time for his body to be able to function properly; it might be a quick procedure.
“We have to go.” I smiled at him. “Now.”
The furrow between his eyes got deeper. “Where to?”
“I’m taking you home.” I spoke gently, “I’m going to bring you back to life. Have you met anyone else down here?”
He shook his head, and took my hand, squeezing lightly as I pursued my lips in determination. The heavier sedative had been unnecessary and now it would be harder to wake up; and to bring his mind back into his body, before encouraging it to heal it as well.
A gate appeared in front us, suddenly and beyond it, the image was blurred, shimmering.
“Walk through.” I muttered. “Be right behind you.”
He frowned, but listened to what I said. Our joys and sorrows could be celebrated later; I just had to make sure my mind could get out safely. 
However as soon as he stepped through, the silhouette of his body disappearing, the gate shut close.
My eyes widened in alarm as I experienced a sudden sensation of falling, and then my heart was taking flight and I sat up in horror in my bed back at the hospital.

“He’s breathing.” The operative squealed at me and I just looked at her, pity for her obliviousness. Death was meant to occur for a reason. For every action, there is an opposite and equal reaction. Nature was never meant to be messed around with.

“I’m dying.” I croaked out, and her eyes grew big, scared. She screamed for someone to aid me, and looking at her, I grimaced, pulling on her hand to urge her to look at my mouth. “Tell him… that I l-“

Not that good, I'm aware; I was in a rush to write this because I didn't have any time! I like the plot though; I may try to develop it.
I'm also aware that this was a bit too rushed, sigh. 

Anyway. 

Anyway. 

Dammnit, I wish I COULD WRITE.