If there is one thing about me that is even the tiniest bit interesting (or certifiable) it would be my dreams. By dreams, I don’t mean my ambitions and goals – which, by the way, are totally normal because who doesn’t want to meet Ellen DeGeneres or tour the castle used for Hogwarts in Harry Potter – I mean my actual dreams that play in my head as I sleep oh so elegantly (picture Anna from Disney’s Frozen when she is seen waking up for the inauguration). I seem to almost always wake up from the most strangest of dreams, and last night was no different.
It begins with me being around the ripe age of 10. I was sitting in the backseat of my mom’s old car as she drove up a small hill to a fancy building – which turned out being a podiatrist hospital of some sort. I don’t even think I had anything wrong with my feet either, so why my mom would drop a healthy 10-year-old me to be admitted at a special podiatrist hospital is beyond me.
When we arrived, the large steel doors took a while to be opened because they were locked tight for some reason. I didn’t really pay attention to the doctors greeting us or anything. I just kind of looked around while listening to my mom speak to them, but all I really heard was her saying, “Fix her feet.” And then she left and I was stuck there. The doctors who were speaking with my mother had left to another room, so I took the chance to explore the strange space like a young detective.
There were several rooms, but I only peaked into three. I did not know what I should have expected to see, but a bunch of male ballerinas in black tutus doing the Pirouette was definitely not it. But that was just the first room, and it was still not as strange as what I would see next.
Now imagine you are 10 years old and have just been dropped off at a locked-down hospital full of foot and ankle doctors for no reason whatsoever. You have just begun exploring the place when you walk in on the dancing male ballerinas (who actually did a pretty good job with that move, too). When it is practically enough to scar you for life, it happens. The real trauma begins when you open the next door and find yourself staring at a room full of people with their pants above their arms. If you want an example of that, just Google “pants over arms” or “arms in pants” and the first few images are exactly what it was like. Except it was a large group of people jumping up and down facing me.
And then I ran like a bat out of hell in the opposite direction. That it when I entered the third room – and the safest place you can ever be – the cafeteria. It was full of people eating their meals and chatting among themselves. It was probably the only room that did not traumatize me. I walked towards the tables, and that is when I saw her: Katie. A girl my age who attended the same elementary school as me, though I never really interacted with her. She looked solemn until she too saw me. Then she started waving her hands in the air while asking me to sit with her, which I did.
Katie explained that her parents dropped her off for no reason, just as my mom had done. She also told me about how impossible it is to leave the place, which gave me the determination to find a way out. Which I did. It was actually pretty easy, too. There was one window in the cafeteria that was open, so we both waited until everyone was distracted before climbing out to freedom.
While outside, we waited to celebrate our sneakiness because we wanted to get away from there. We ended up running down a yellow brick road (yes, like the one from Wizard of Oz) to my house, which wasn’t that far away. It was actually just down the hill, which makes me wonder why my mom even had to drive me there.
As we got closer, we slowed our running to conserve our energy and began to plot on what to do next. We had just escaped from a podiatrist hospital, and obviously our parents would just bring us back. So what would two 10 year old girls think to do? That’s right, we decided to sneak into my house and grab supplies to prepare for a life on the road. So, we just entered from the back door and walked to my room quietly.
Inside my room was a mess of toys from where my sister and her friend were playing with them. They did not really question us or anything; they just told us to not mess with their dolls. I don’t even know why they would say that either. I was always really nice with our toys. Anyways, I had Katie stand guard while I gathered up some clothes and supplies.
Just as I was almost finished, I turned around and she was playing with my sister and her friend. I was just about to scold her for not keeping watch when I heard my mom coming towards us while talking on her phone. I quickly hid behind a large doll house, but it was obviously a crappy hiding place. My mom saw me and simply walked away while on the phone as if it didn’t matter. And then I was confused.
That’s when I woke up, and then I was really confused. Why would I dream such a thing? Was it a nightmare or just a weird dream? What was wrong with my feet to begin with? These are the questions that will keep me up at night. Well, maybe not keep me up at night, but they are still things I am questioning right now.