i am a 12 year old girl, going to die

26 05 2012


I found myself at this carnival/festival-type event, running away from something.  I had climbed up to a high tower/platform thing that overlooked the festivities below, namely a cartoonish-looking green alligator in a small tank, swimming around on command by an animal trainer.  Somehow during my escape, I was no longer myself — what I mean, is I was no longer a 23 year-old, male.  I turned into a very young, about 12 or something, girl.  This is not very relevant to what will happen next, but for whatever reason, it still happened.

The event was bordered by a large body of water, and I had to get across it somehow.  I fashioned a piece of something into a boat of some sort, and started paddling away.  There was a small, spider-like machine on the water (I had recently watched an analysis of Wild Wild West that day, and there’s a spider-machine thing in the movie).  I stayed away from it, but there was something else happening on the water.  Ahead of me, canoers were paddling back to shore, and the water itself was “jumping” — something was in the water.  Suddenly, a narrator’s voice interrupted the scene.  I can’t even remember if the voice was male or female, but it said how the water was dangerous and that everyone was heading back to shore.  So I reluctantly headed back too.

Once back on land, I was then informed by the narrator that anyone who was in the water would die because the water was contaminated or poisonous or something or rather.  Distraught and upset that my 12 years was cut short, I went to find a telephone to phone my mother.  In the crowded, noisy space where everyone had gathered, I found a telephone that was being watched over by Ms. Pillsbury from Glee.  I asked her if I could use the phone to talk to my mom, and she said I better be quick.

With difficulty, I dialed home.  My mom picked up.  Through tears and sobbing, I told her I was going to die because I had been in the water.  She expressed little to no remorse.  When she asked how I knew, I told her, “Because the narrator said so.”  I also somehow “knew” that Shopper’s Drug Mart had contaminated the water, and they would be held responsible.  “Just get the money from Shopper’s Drug Mart,” she said, implying that after I had died, there would be money to be had from suing Shoppers for killing me.  I cried more on the phone and hung up.

I woke up shortly after, very much sad, and before going to the bathroom, I went to the kitchen, where my mom was drinking tea, and hugged her.

Then I told her my dream and she laughed.



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