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Category: I must be dreaming

What did you do with my Harry Potter books?!

What did you do with my Harry Potter books?!

Not that anyone actually did anything to my Harry Potter books; they are still safely on my bookshelf. I had a dream last night that wasn’t quite a nightmare because it wasn’t scary, but it did rattle me emotionally. I guess it was more of a confusing and bad dream than a full blown nightmare.

I don’t remember much from it other than, for some reason, I was living in a large house with my family and shared a room with my friend. Aaand there was a group of old, devout Christian women living in the rooms upstairs (not that it’s a bad thing, I am a Christian, too). Why? Because they wanted to be closer to Heaven. Because I have no idea, that’s why.

The room my friend and I shared was small and messy compared to the rest of the house. It was big enough for two twin sized beds at each wall with barely enough room for us to lay beside each other in the floor between the beds. And there were art supplies EVERYWHERE on the floor. Colored pencils, sketchbooks, gel pens, oil pastels, and even paint. I want to assume that most of these things were mine for coloring books considering she seems to prefer arting  (spellcheck says that arting isn’t a word which is silly because it is definitely a real word) digitally. She was laying down, sketching an anthro (apparently anthro isn’t a real word either, but I’m still using it. SUCK IT, SPELLCHECK) poodle character she had apparently been wanting to use as a mascot for her art sales.

It reminded me that I wanted to show her something I made, so I sat next to her and turned on my tablet. Just as I entered the password, there were shouts and crashes coming from upstairs. My friend didn’t seem to hear it or care, and instead said she wanted to draw old cartoon characters as animals to see how they would turn out. I was beyond confused as to how she could ignore (or maybe not even hear) the noises, but I shrugged it aside and ran to see what was going on. That’s when I saw it.

My bookcase was laying at the bottom of the stairs, broken with my books barely surviving the fall. I started to pick everything up and getting the bookcase out of the way when I noticed something: All of my Harry Potter books, bookmarks, and buttons were gone. They weren’t on the floor, hanging off the shelves, or even laying on the steps. They were nowhere to be found, and I wanted to know why. I walked up the stairs, still picking up books as I went along. When I finally made it to the top of the stairs, I smelt smoke coming from the rooms that the women were staying in.

Just as I was about to knock on the door, a woman (who looked like Ethel from Parks and Recreation) opened the door and started screaming at me. More and more of the women ran behind her, all bickering and yelling about how they “took care of the book problems.” I didn’t understand what was going on, but having five or six little old ladies screaming at me after they destroyed my books and bookcase was enough to make my anxiety go through the roof. I panicked and slammed the door before running (and half-falling) down the stairs.

Ethel doesn’t take no shit.

My immediate response to what happened was to tell my family about it so someone else could deal with the situation. Which would have been great if not for the fact that I couldn’t find any of my family. I looked in every room, still hearing the yelling from upstairs, but no one could be found. It wasn’t until I was about to give up and hide in my room that I nearly walked into my mom. I tried telling her about what happened, but she didn’t seem to care. She just told me to mind my elders and to behave (as if I was a child acting up). It frustrated me, but I didn’t say anything about it. Instead I took to my room to hide from the craziness.

I tried telling my friend about what happened, but she didn’t really seem to care. She just kept drawing and asking me to hand her the pencil sharpener and eraser. The yelling only got louder as I sat in my bed, almost in tears. It wasn’t like anything big or horrific was happening, but it was enough to have me wanting to scream and cry. It was enough for me to wake up while still feeling like I needed to scream and cry (and even confused as to why I wasn’t already).

But I didn’t, and I did manage to get back to sleep a little bit afterward. The dream afterward was still kind of weird, but not in the stressful and holy-shit-what-is-happening-I-need-to-hide way. It was about an old friend that I tried to contact suddenly. The weird part is that she replied to me in French. Yeah, dafuq, right? It confused me a little, but instead of asking her about it I started scrambling on my phone to send her the lyrics to Cindy Daniel’s song Sous Une Pluie D’étoiles. Not the English translation, no, the French lyrics. And she doesn’t even know French (I BARELY know any).

I don’t understand why she sent me something in French or especially why I chose to send her those lyrics, but dreams are meant to not make sense, right? And at least it wasn’t about screaming old ladies who burnt my Harry Potter books, RIGHT? Those questions aside, I think I know why I had these dreams (for the most part).

Before bed I was looking on Barnes & Noble for Harry Potter merchandise when I saw that there was a book about how Christians should deal with Harry Potter. I rolled my eyes and laughed about it for a moment. For the more emotional stuff, however, I think it was because I have recently started talking to a friend about things that have been on my mind for the past couple of weeks. It was nice to get it out and to talk with someone who has been through the same sort of situations (and have similar reactions to these situations) as me. The only thing is that instead of ignoring these things like usual, I am left thinking about them before bed after having ice cream and a shot of Buttery Nipple (don’t judge me).

All in all, it’s safe to say that my Harry Potter books are safe and sound.

Apparently dragons like Doritos Loaded.

Apparently dragons like Doritos Loaded.

I usually don’t have recurring dreams. I don’t even think I have ever had the same dream more than once, or at least I don’t remember it happening. This week, however, has been an exception because I have now had the same nerdtastic dream twice. It was strange, weird, and – now that I think of it – a bit of a nightmare.

I had just walked through the doors of Hogwarts, astounded by its beauty and in awe by its structure. Rain could be heard from outside, which would have made it seem creepy if not for the fact that the castle felt like home. I was about to wander off, but a young Ron Weasley stopped me with a greeting.

I would have expected an older Rupert Grint to appear.

Totally out-of-character for Ron, but he cheerily offered to show me around (not that he wasn’t a friendly kid in the movies and books, but I feel like he wouldn’t act excited to give a tour of Hogwarts even if he was tasked to). Part of me was upset that I couldn’t sneak and look around on my own, but I was just happy to be in Hogwarts at all. I don’t really remember much of the tour, except the part where he shows me the Ravenclaw common room.

Why didn’t the movies show the Ravenclaw common room?!

It was one of the most beautiful and coziest places I had ever been. I stood at the entrance for what felt like several minutes, trying to focus on just one of the room; then I did. It wasn’t the statue or paintings, or even the shelves full of books – it was the windows. There was a beautiful view, but my attention was on the forest. Something was about to happen, and it wasn’t good.

If you ever wanted to know what anxiety feels like, this image is it.

Suddenly alarms went off and people were scrambling back and forth. I turned my head to watch Ron run off, only to look back at the window and watch as Alduin – a badass dragon from Skyrim – rose from the forest and circle Hogwarts. It was actually really terrifying to watch, but I couldn’t look away.

Pretty cool, right?

I just watched it fly around until the ground began to shake violently, knocking me to the floor. It wasn’t a hard fall, so I wasn’t unconscious – I just waited for it to stop before getting up. When I did, I was suddenly in something that looked like the outfit that Snow White wore just before she bit into the Evil Queen’s poison apple in Once Upon a Time.

Like this, sans cloak.

As much as it confused me, I didn’t question it. I thought it looked kind of badass. The truly confusing part was when Ron Weasley ran back inside, this time as an adult, and grabbed my arm. He kept saying that we needed to hurry and that we were in danger. While we ran, I kept looking behind us because I couldn’t stop thinking about Alduin flying around. Was he the reason we were in danger?

I couldn’t see his face while we ran, but I’m pretty sure it was something like this.

As we ran, Hogwarts suddenly wasn’t Hogwarts. It was a different castle, nearly in ruins. It was like we ran inside a completely different place. It was dark and depressing – a lot of the ceiling was missing and there was a strong scent of smoke in the air. I couldn’t believe the state of it. I could almost feel tears in my eyes as I looked around. Ron, however, didn’t seem fazed.

His poker face would have been really useful in Vegas.

At this point, I was just looking around and he was tip-toeing off somewhere. I just wanted to see how everything looked. I wanted to know what happened and how. I just wanted to know what could have led to this castle’s destruction. For some reason, I was drawn to a small wooden door on the right of the room. It was just a simple door with a wobbly knob.

I opened it, not knowing what was on the other side.

It led to a large room with ivory walls. There were big platforms on the sides that were slightly raised a little over a foot from the ground. I’m not even sure how I would describe them. Kind of like giant couches without backs, except they weren’t couches at all. In the center of the room was a huge tree. I started to walk closer, but then I heard a crunch from beneath me: A single Loaded Dorito.

It makes me think of the scenes from Al’s apartment in Toy Story 2.

I heard footsteps and shouting, so I quickly walked to the nearest door so the cheese would leave a trail, opened it up, and threw it out to hopefully throw the people off. Then I ran back to a nearby platform and hid under it. I barely made it as the wooden door I had entered earlier burst open. I could almost barely see their faces.

Yeah, it was The Governor from The Walking Dead. What the hell?

I’m not sure which was more unsettling: The fact that he was leading the Saviors – a group that is definitely not his – or the fact that he was having them drop freshly baked Loaded Doritos all over the ground. I held my breath as they walked by my hiding spot. I even closed my eyes out of fear of being seen. That’s when the ground began to move again.

It’s a shame that there wasn’t a crack in the ground because then I could make use of some really lame puns.

The Governor and the Saviors began evacuating. I kept my head ducked, but I could hear them laughing as they left. When I finally dared to open my eyes, I could see a dragon – this time a completely different one – stepping inside the room and following the trail of Loaded Doritos. Of all the things that could lure a dragon, those little cheesy monstrosities were the last thing I would have expected.

It took the bait almost as good as James Woods did in Family Guy.

It was starting to get too close to comfort. Just as I thought it was about to find me, I heard shouting coming from across the room. It was from someone I care about very much. The dragon heard them, too, obviously, and began sprinting towards the tree. My head felt like it was spinning as the shouts continued. I peaked my head out from the platform and watched as the dragon made it’s way to the tree.

That’s when I started to panic.

I looked around and noticed a sword nearby. It looked mostly dull, but it was better than nothing. So I ran towards the sword and barely managed to avoid the dragon’s tail as it tried to swipe at me. I fell a couple of times as I ran to the tree, swinging something that would have absolutely no effect on the beast. That’s when I saw the dragon opening it’s mouth wide, ready to blow fire at the person I care about. I dropped the sword and ran between them just as the dragon spat it’s ball of flame. And then I woke up.

It was a crazy, strange dream. On a side note, now I want to see a Harry Potter/Skyrim/The Walking Dead/Once Upon a Time crossover. All it’s missing is Supernatural.



Run away or she’ll kill you!

Run away or she’ll kill you!

Of course the first time I actually remember a dream in weeks is the time I have a nightmare.

It began with me getting ready for some sort of Harry Potter convention. I was in my room and looking for an outfit to wear. Just as I am about to put on a navy blue shirt with the Ravenclaw crest in rhinestones, my mom barges in and says she has a surprise.

By now I am completely annoyed and put the shirt on as fast as I can while scolding her for not knocking, only to see some guy about my age standing with her. Cue me being REALLY annoyed and confused. My mom noticed this, so she explained that she had found me a date for the convention. I was not having it, for so many reasons, so I decided that if I pretended I was sick and not going he would leave, right? Right? Wrong.

The guy decides to stay and hang out with my family, so I ran off to my room to avoid him. While he seemed like a normal person, he gave me weird vibes to not trust him. I couldn’t pinpoint why, but something about him rubbed me the wrong way and I kept trying to figure out what it was. Eventually I just decided that it was because I was annoyed and pissed at my mom and taking it out on a complete stranger.

I became thirsty after a while so I finally left my room to look for some homemade butterbeer (after all, I missed the con and was still very much in a Harry Potter mood). I was about to give up finding some until I remembered that I put a cup inside my mom’s mini fridge in her room.

Assuming she was gone for a while, I opened the door only to find her and the dude from earlier making out hot and heavy. It was so unbelievably disgusting. They stopped when they saw me, but the weirdness was just getting started. He kept a blank expression the whole time. She acted like a completely different person. I was perplexed at what to say because: 1) She was married and her husband was just in the next room. 2) He was about my age, which made it really weird because she’s old enough to be his mother. 3) When is it ever not awkward to walk in on a parent about to do the naughts?

At this point, my mom is acting as if she is very drunk. Except she wasn’t drunk or high; I could just tell as I watched her that she wasn’t intoxicated. So what was going on? Why was my mom suddenly cheating with this boy? Why was she now acting like a rich, horny sorority girl in a movie? I tried to confront the dude on whether he did anything to her, but instead he stared blankly and sat to watch TV. I was pretty irritated by now and had no idea on what to do.

I ended up talking my mom into sitting on the porch for some fresh air while she kept complaining and trying to pick an argument with me. I finally had a moment of peace, which I really wanted to enjoy. Except I couldn’t because it was too peaceful. I looked outside and found my mother laying on the porch and not breathing.

Frantic, I tried to run out there to try to save her, but the guy was now blocking my way and saying it was too late. I tried to shove him away, but he just wouldn’t budge. This went on for what felt like forever. I started to worry that it was no longer safe there so I started helping my brothers pack so we could stay with our grandparents. We were close to getting my youngest brother’s medical supplies packed when I suddenly heard my mother talking outside. She was alive, but she looked dead. She kept staring at me idly, in a way far more concerning than how the guy had been.

For some reason, the only thing that came to mind was Stephen King’s Pet Sematary. I tried to warn my brothers as she slowly made her way up the steps. I told them to get out, but I knew that the one she wanted most was me. I ran to my room and tried to barricade the door so I could pack an outfit or two and run away to safety. I could hear my mother coming closer and talking about how she was hungry. She started to twist my doorknob, asking if I wanted something to eat and letting me once again know that she was hungry. This rattled my bones to the core, so I ditched my backpack and escaped through the window.

All I could think about was getting away. I didn’t stop for a moment to go the shorter route so I could get away faster. I just wanted out of there. It was when she was looking out my window and starting to climb out that I realized my mistake. I wanted to run around and confuse her, or even try to go back and take her on so that maybe I could tie her up, but I knew that the moment she caught me would be the moment she killed me. I just kept running until I saw that my brother was loading a truck with supplies because he planned on driving away to safety with our younger brother.

I quickly realized that I might not lose her on foot, but I was also too far from the truck. I started crying and running towards my zombie of a mother so that I could distract her while they escaped. She was able to firmly grab hold of me, despite her weak appearance, and once again told me she was hungry. The last thing I saw before it went black was the dude facing us from the window. It was like he was still staring except now he had no eyes. It was just two black circles of emptiness.

… And then I woke up. It was so strange and creepy. It was nothing like Pet Sematary, and yet I still have Pet Sematary vibes from it.

Is this what I get for only sleeping about three hours each night for two weeks?

Casper, did you age into Steve Stevens?

Casper, did you age into Steve Stevens?

Not the guitarist Steve Stevens, no, I mean the fictional character played by Tom Virtue on the old Disney Channel show, Even Stevens. But it would definitely be something if Casper did age into the guitarist Steve Stevens.

To explain, I woke up at 6:22 AM from a weird dream/nightmare and now that I’m back up, I thought I would share this dream here. It wasn’t necessarily that creepy. I mean, it wasn’t like the other strange dreams (I’m looking at you, podiatrist dream!) I tend to have, but it was still enough to weird me out. I don’t even know why it was weirding (screw you, spellcheck, weirding is a real word and should be treated as such!) me out so much, but it did.

So instead of me just going on a rant about it, how’s about I just share it?

I was twelve again and living back in one of my childhood homes (fun fact: this house ended up getting demolished when we moved out because the landlord wanted to build a brand new house). It wasn’t anything fancy – just a simple three bedroom home on top of a hill.

It was nighttime and, for some reason, I had decided to sleep in the van. For some weirder reason, my mom was actually okay with this (which if I had actually asked to do this at that age or even now, she would freak out and ask me if I’m crazy). Instead of sleeping, however, I kept myself busy with my phone because I did not want to go to sleep. It wasn’t as if I was just being a stubborn child that did not want to sleep or anything like that. I was afraid, and I didn’t know why. I was afraid of the dark outside the house and I was afraid of being inside the house, but I wasn’t sure which of the two I was more fearful of.

Just as my phone was about to die, something outside caught my eye. It wasn’t something scary or strange (well, it would be strange to see this in southern Kentucky, but you know what I mean). It was the Northern Lights appearing out of nowhere. I watched as the lights danced in the sky, mesmerized by their gleam. This distraction from whatever I was fearing was enough to calm me down.

As quickly as they appeared, the spectacle left the sky and I was once again left alone in the darkness. The fears once again began to consume me and, in a moment of panic, I gathered my things and ran back inside as fast as I could. My family was getting ready for bed, so I had managed to come in just before my mom had locked the door.

Taylor: 01 – Fears: 00

I walked to the living room and, for some reason, my youngest brother’s bed was in there. But I didn’t question it. In this dream it was normal for such an occurrence. I actually found comfort in this because it meant I could sleep on the couch without fear of the darkness because of his nightlight.

My new task was to go to my room and get some extra pillows so the couch would be more comfortable. This wouldn’t be a problem except that I was reluctant to go to my room. I was more afraid of going to my room than anything, but I chose to get it over with.

It was cold enough that I could see my breath when it exhaled. Aside from the small bit of light from the hallways, it was totally dark. The only lit area was the path to my room’s entrance to my old white dresser, which was covered in clothes. And while I was there just for the pillows, I decided to go to the dresser and start digging through the clothes. It was as if I were a dog digging for a bone, but instead of a bone I found something else: coins. Tons and tons of coins. I was surprised to see so many, much less to find them there of all places.

Before I could inspect this “treasure,” I heard the sound of a man saying something incoherently. It was enough to make me flee my room.

Taylor: 01 – Fears: 01

Back to the safety of the living room, I tried to tell my mom what I heard. She just kind of shrugged it off and said I was hearing things, but I knew what I heard and was not going to ignore it. Before I could say anything else, my mom asked me to check outside and to lock the doors for the night. I did as I was told and as soon as I opened the door I saw him. Steve Stevens (aka Tom Virtue).

He was dressed like Mr. Clean and smiled at me. Oh, and he was a ghost. I momentarily froze up, not able to scream or run off. I kept thinking that I needed to scream, and scream loudly. But I couldn’t. I was paralyzed in fear for several seconds. It was not until he looked down at me and said something (I can’t remember what he said, just that it sounded creepily polite) that I finally was able to slam the door and scream for my mother as I ran to tell her what I just witnessed.

Taylor: 01 – Fears: 02

I finally talked her into checking outside, and she did. But it wasn’t outside anymore. Our front door opened into what looked like the Springfield Retirement Castle from The Simpsons, except it was solid white and not a cartoon. Its residents (Abe Simpson, Jasper Beardly, and even Hans Moleman) were also there, and they looked like they were all made of clay.

The ghost of Steve Stevens/Tom Virtue/Mr. Clean was not there, and it angered me. Everything changed and the ghost wasn’t there, and it made me angry. So I ran past my mom, aged back to 21, and started shouting at the ceiling.

This is pretty much how I looked, except I looked like me and it was indoors.

I woke up at this point and, as I said, was completely weirded out. I wasn’t scared or anything; it’s just funny and strange how our minds come up with these sort of things.

Oh, and:

Fears totally won that dream.



Okay, so, last night I was writing a deep and insightful post about how passionate I am about so many things, but I ended up falling asleep before I could finish it. I probably will finish it and post it in a few hours, but right now I have something else to write about.

I woke up at 6 AM this morning after having one of the most insane dreams I have ever had. And yes, I consider it worse than the podiatrist dream. It was so bad that I had to calm myself down when I woke up because I could not believe my mind came up with such a scenario. I could not even fall back asleep for a solid hour because I did not want to end up having another freaky dream. So now, I am going to share this dream with whoever may come across this.

I was working at Luke’s Diner in the fictional town of Stars Hollow (Gilmore Girls) as a dish washer, and I loved it. The food smelt amazing and who wouldn’t enjoy working in such a beloved establishment?!

Well, as I was walking inside a squirrel had managed to sneak inside, which is a big no-no for Luke (and restaurants in general). Because it was my fault for the little critter entering the diner, I was the one tasked with getting it out. I did not want to harm it, so I tried to find ways to capture it so that it could be released outside. Except I am a scaredy cat and did not want to just try to grab it. But then came an opportunity to solve all of my problems with this seemingly adorable creature.

The little squirrel had found its way inside the sink – or more specifically, inside a pot. It was my perfect chance to just put a plate over the pot so that I could release the little guy outside without harming it or anything. Or so I thought. The squirrel caught on to my attempt to trap it, and was having none of that.

As I got close, he jumped down and landed on my knee, which caused me to scream and “kick” it in the air like the fluffy animal was a hacky sack. This continued for a while UNTIL A FREAKING OVER-SIZED RAT FELL FROM A CABINET INTO THE SINK. SERIOUSLY. It was the size of a small dog, and because of this it could not roll onto its paws and escape. Not that it could have really done that either.

So there I was, alone in the diner with a squirrel that kept jumping from the counter to my leg and a huge rat in the sink, both of which squeaking as if they were scarily shouting profanities. Before I could even react, THE ADORABLE SQUIRREL BECAUSE A DEMENTED HOMICIDAL MANIAC AND JUMPED FROM THE COUNTER TO THE SINK AND KILLED THE CHUBBY AND HELPLESS RAT BY BITING ITS BELLY. WHAT THE HECK.

I was freaking out and was too shocked to do anything. And when the freaking squirrel was finished, the little beast once again jumped down to my knee. I screamed, and then I woke up traumatized by a murderous imaginary squirrel.

So yeah. My mind must be really screwed up to dream such a thing.

Run away from the podiatrists!

Run away from the podiatrists!

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.

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