Dr Trent taught us how to dance during exams— 2 steps, then shake your butt. Sarah was joined pep band next semester. All us students walked home together in the increasingly dense fog, Margo and I holding hands. Matt needed my help, my fingers brushed against the spine of his book but he was gone.
When Margo and i got back to the dorm we leaned over the railing and watched the puddles. Margo had a really bad week, she hadn’t been able to join band? We played a game called who could find the first frog and I did, and Margo cried. The frog I found was dead, but Margo had just wanted to win at something.
Mom picked me up and drove me home but it was like I was flying over the road. We wound up in a cul de sac filled with confederate flags, so we turned around and got out of there. In a house full of junk, Mom picked up ever piece and decided she wouldn’t buy it, but she stole a Cookie Monster hat from a sleeping girl, and a ride-in Sesame Street you car. “Her mother already asked me if I wanted it,” she said, “it’s fine.” Back at the house, babysitters would have to deal with a crying child.
Mom drove off the street and I got off. There was a front room to a store, and the customers only spoke a different language, but the man didn’t speak any French. I tried teaching him German, and he was happy to learn. I tried to speak German to the French people, but they were already gone.
Earlier in the dream, Dad had tried to call Rosalie, and she hadn’t picked up, even though we could hear her dog barking through the entire town. Rosalie and I used to work at this store together, and now she needed medicine from the back room, but the doctor in the chefs hat couldn’t give it to her. Because of insurance or something. I didn’t see Rosalie at all.
The leaves were a vibrant, violent yellow and I loved it. The outsides were all yellows and oranges and purple, a fall you can’t remember. We sat outside and watched a parade go buy—the town reminded me of Apex, a church tower piercing the sky.
I was in my room, my old room back in Wilton, the first one I shared with Emmett, working on my computer on my bed. My roommate next to me was playing this immersive video game with her friends—you go into this game as a “test subject” and the doctors in the game, also players, Inject you with a substance. No one who played the game knew what the substance was, and that was why the game kept getting played, it was a vicious cycle. The substance turned you into a zombie in the game, but a monster in real life. It would burn away parts of your body until you were begging to be killed. There was an antidote.
They got the injection, laughing, but as soon as they realized what was going to happen to them they disconnected from the fame and took the antidote, panicked. And they thought they were safe. But one girl went into the next room. “Are you okay?”they asked her.
“I’m okay,” she said, “my skin is just red.”
A minute later, they asked her again and she said that she wasn’t she was bleeding from everywhere and she felt like she was on fire and her screams echoed through the whole house. The rest of them were beginning to experience symptoms at that point too and they were crying and screaming and begging.
I managed to wake myself up before it got too bad, but before I left I looked it up, and the antidote only worked on 3 of them, out of the 5.
This entire dream is arranged by the sort of light that the scene was illuminated with
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