I had a fucked up dream
This is going to be a weird progression of Gina thoughts. Bear with me.
I fell asleep while doing my Shakespeare reading, and I had this really fucked up dream. It started out alright: I was in what was supposed to be my dorm, only it didn't look like my dorm. Becca and I were trying to get to our floor, but the stairs were suddenly strange. They went up and down, and there were ledges we had to climb. We ended up on the third floor, only to find that to get back to the second, we had to jump down a series of ledges followed by short burts of up-stairs. We finally got to our floor, and I went into my room, only to find that our hamsters had escaped their cages and were fighting on my bed. Bitchy had torn off Fatty's ear completely (yes, those are their names), and Fatty was bleeding all over.
All of the sudden, we were at my parents' house, and I was rushing Fatty in to my mom's room so she could fix her (my mom's a vet). My mom wasn't in her room, so I had to put the hamsters back in their cages. The only problem was that every time I did this, they would escape. Every time my dream came to focus on Fatty, she had lost more fur and more weight, to the point of her looking horribly sick and pathetic. Becca and my mom finally came into the room where I was and told me the only solution was for us to cook and eat the hamsters.
Flash forward, I found myself looking at two platters made up of our hamsters--one for Becca, one for me. All I could think was "please don't let mine be Fatty." But mine was Fatty. I started to cry and sob, and I told them there was no way that I could eat her. I told them I would catch her disease and start to get very ill myself. Becca held me down, and my mom started to force the dead hamster into my mouth, when I vomitted all over her.
Scene switch to my bathroom, Becca and I were both throwing up into the toilet, but it was overflowing and really disgusting. All the sudden we were in my living room and my father was puking, and my mother started to, as well. We were convinced there was a virus in my house.
Scene switch again, Becca, Katie, Cathy, and I were in a car. I wa in the backseat, and was not quite sure what's going on. There was some franticness and some talk about finding a Starbucks. Finally I realized that we were near my house, and that I knew where there's a Starbucks. I led them to it, and they all thanked me as though I'd just rescued the planet from a meteor or something (and I don't even like Starbucks).
Then I woke up.
I lied on the couch for awhile, taking in how strange of a dream that was. Then I got up, still groggy from not being fully awake, and blurry-eyed from not wearing my glasses. I went into the bathroom, which separates my room from my suitemates' room, but they're both gone right now. I heard some really weird noises comign from in there (most assuredly noises coming from outside--they always have their window open), and some male voices (likely coming from the noisy boys who live above us, who we can, for some reason, hear really well from the bathroom). What do I assume in my trance-like state? That there's someone in my suitemates' room doing very strange things (I have an overractive imagination, and I often strongly believe the things I imagine). I locked both doors, just to be safe. They're still locked.
This made me think, though, as I was washing my hands. To understand, partially, where this comes from, you have to know that a friend of mine lives on the ground floor of this dorm. Instead of having her room connected to suitemates through a bathroom, it's connected to an office. Only the door leading to the office is always locked, so they don't end up walking in on meetings or anything.
I decided today that If I made a short film, it would be about a room connected to some other locked room. Only the guy in this film doesn't know what's behind that locked door; he's only told not to concern himself with such matters. At first, he is able to go about his life not thinking too much about that room. Before long, though, he finds himself staying up late, thinking about what could be back there. He realizes it's probably just some office, and he's only told to keep out so he doesn't disrupt business. But it could be something much weirder. He starts spending more and more of his time thinking about it. He starts listening to the door, hoping to hear something coming from the other side, but all he hears is muffled noises that sound like thunder and barbaric screams. It's not long before his entire life becomes consumed by this room, and all he does is attempt to get back there.
Finally, one day he decides he can't take it anymore. He is lying on his bed with a gun pressed to his head, about to pull the trigger. Then, suddenly he has an idea. He jumps up, runs to the door, and knocks on it. A note slips under, asking him if he's sure. He says yes. Another paper slips under, and it's a contract, agreeing that if he signs at the bottom, he swears to go by the terms of the room's tenant. He signs it and slips it back under. The door opens, slowly, and the man stands back and gawks. It's clearly hell, filled with horrid, grotesque images. The camera zooms in on a creepy red grin, then it shows the man, terrified, taking one step into the room. Then the screen goes black.
Fin.
I fell asleep while doing my Shakespeare reading, and I had this really fucked up dream. It started out alright: I was in what was supposed to be my dorm, only it didn't look like my dorm. Becca and I were trying to get to our floor, but the stairs were suddenly strange. They went up and down, and there were ledges we had to climb. We ended up on the third floor, only to find that to get back to the second, we had to jump down a series of ledges followed by short burts of up-stairs. We finally got to our floor, and I went into my room, only to find that our hamsters had escaped their cages and were fighting on my bed. Bitchy had torn off Fatty's ear completely (yes, those are their names), and Fatty was bleeding all over.
All of the sudden, we were at my parents' house, and I was rushing Fatty in to my mom's room so she could fix her (my mom's a vet). My mom wasn't in her room, so I had to put the hamsters back in their cages. The only problem was that every time I did this, they would escape. Every time my dream came to focus on Fatty, she had lost more fur and more weight, to the point of her looking horribly sick and pathetic. Becca and my mom finally came into the room where I was and told me the only solution was for us to cook and eat the hamsters.
Flash forward, I found myself looking at two platters made up of our hamsters--one for Becca, one for me. All I could think was "please don't let mine be Fatty." But mine was Fatty. I started to cry and sob, and I told them there was no way that I could eat her. I told them I would catch her disease and start to get very ill myself. Becca held me down, and my mom started to force the dead hamster into my mouth, when I vomitted all over her.
Scene switch to my bathroom, Becca and I were both throwing up into the toilet, but it was overflowing and really disgusting. All the sudden we were in my living room and my father was puking, and my mother started to, as well. We were convinced there was a virus in my house.
Scene switch again, Becca, Katie, Cathy, and I were in a car. I wa in the backseat, and was not quite sure what's going on. There was some franticness and some talk about finding a Starbucks. Finally I realized that we were near my house, and that I knew where there's a Starbucks. I led them to it, and they all thanked me as though I'd just rescued the planet from a meteor or something (and I don't even like Starbucks).
Then I woke up.
I lied on the couch for awhile, taking in how strange of a dream that was. Then I got up, still groggy from not being fully awake, and blurry-eyed from not wearing my glasses. I went into the bathroom, which separates my room from my suitemates' room, but they're both gone right now. I heard some really weird noises comign from in there (most assuredly noises coming from outside--they always have their window open), and some male voices (likely coming from the noisy boys who live above us, who we can, for some reason, hear really well from the bathroom). What do I assume in my trance-like state? That there's someone in my suitemates' room doing very strange things (I have an overractive imagination, and I often strongly believe the things I imagine). I locked both doors, just to be safe. They're still locked.
This made me think, though, as I was washing my hands. To understand, partially, where this comes from, you have to know that a friend of mine lives on the ground floor of this dorm. Instead of having her room connected to suitemates through a bathroom, it's connected to an office. Only the door leading to the office is always locked, so they don't end up walking in on meetings or anything.
I decided today that If I made a short film, it would be about a room connected to some other locked room. Only the guy in this film doesn't know what's behind that locked door; he's only told not to concern himself with such matters. At first, he is able to go about his life not thinking too much about that room. Before long, though, he finds himself staying up late, thinking about what could be back there. He realizes it's probably just some office, and he's only told to keep out so he doesn't disrupt business. But it could be something much weirder. He starts spending more and more of his time thinking about it. He starts listening to the door, hoping to hear something coming from the other side, but all he hears is muffled noises that sound like thunder and barbaric screams. It's not long before his entire life becomes consumed by this room, and all he does is attempt to get back there.
Finally, one day he decides he can't take it anymore. He is lying on his bed with a gun pressed to his head, about to pull the trigger. Then, suddenly he has an idea. He jumps up, runs to the door, and knocks on it. A note slips under, asking him if he's sure. He says yes. Another paper slips under, and it's a contract, agreeing that if he signs at the bottom, he swears to go by the terms of the room's tenant. He signs it and slips it back under. The door opens, slowly, and the man stands back and gawks. It's clearly hell, filled with horrid, grotesque images. The camera zooms in on a creepy red grin, then it shows the man, terrified, taking one step into the room. Then the screen goes black.
Fin.