train of friends
I'm on a sort of train of people. It's a group of women. We're all sitting on seats, holding onto each other with our legs wrapped around the person in front of us. We are going along a track across the countryside, trying to get somewhere.
black clothes
NEXT, I'm with Phoebe and Noli. We're in a room full of clothing. It's all in piles on the floor, divided by colors. I'm next to the black pile. I'm looking in a full-length mirror; I'm wearing gypsy-like pants that look like a skirt. I have jangly silver bells around my ankles.
seeing my naughty side
NEXT, I'm in a room at the top of a VERY tall building. I'm sitting at a table with a group of people whom I know very well. People are telling stories. We're waiting for something else (in another room) to end. Then it gets to be my turn to tell a story. I begin by saying that the main character went to India. I don't know where my story should go from here. I'm afraid it will be like all the rest: too cliche. Then the people around the table start describing who I am. They're all offering their opinions, as if I'm not sitting there to hear them. Mom is on my left; Grandaddy is across the table; lots of friends are on all sides; my male friends from Swat are on my right, on the end. I'm happy about what I hear. It's positive. I'm tuning in to Mom's reaction. The guys on my right start to explain that I also have a naughty side to me; I think to myself how true this is, but I didn't necessarily expect it to come up in conversation. Mom and Grandaddy are surprised, I can tell. The boys explain how I'm not goody-goody since I have a streak of wild badness in me. I see a San Francisco Chronicle on the table in front of me and am excited to find a crossword puzzle. Mom says something. She and I start bickering. She's really pushing all my buttons. I lash out and poke her in the face. She is saying awful things to me. I try to focus back to my crossword puzzle, but Mom is provoking me. She tells me that she has to throw up. I tell her to do it right here. She says sure and bends over me, looking like she's about to puke all over me. This action really angers me. I smack her in the face and poke her in the ear with my pen. She shrieks, claiming that I broke her nose. She's holding it with her hands. She orders me to go get a nurse; she hands me a business card with a bunch of names scribbled onto it. She demands that I go find _______ (the name of some medical person in the building). I don't have much of a choice, so I leave, wondering whether or not I should take my black backpack and/or crossword puzzle with me. I walk down the hall, needing to use the bathroom. I finally find one. It is small, without much natural lighting. I go to turn one of the light switches, but none of them work. I just wanted to look at myself in the mirror to check that I'm looking okay. The light is too dim to see much. I walk to the end of the hall, where I see some offices. I go inside one of them and tell the secretary that I just broke my Mom's nose and she needs medical help. The woman tells me that this is not the right office, that I'll have to keep looking. I leave. I realize that I'll need to use the elevator to go downstairs. I hear the event that we were waiting for get out, and I think to myself that I should have grabbed my backpack, for it is now probably getting lost in the shuffle of things. I step into the elevator, which is very small with unstable footing. It is swaying back and forth. I push the button for the bottom floor; the elevator instantly starts dropping downwards. I shouldn't have chosen the very bottom floor. I am dropping at such a fast rate that I feel like I'm going down a few hundred floors every second. Gravity is controlling it. I'm freaked about hitting the ground. Am I going to be hurt? I slightly recognize it as a dream, giving me a little comfort, but mainly I just feel stuck in a scary situation. FIN
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