The Red Imagery Dream - November 12th, 2017

I'm walking through the living room with Wes, Olivia, Dan, Lili and Ellie. I'm dressed head to toe in red and I'm wearing ridiculously high heels. I kick open the backdoor dramatically and step out to confront someone but nobody is there: Dan suggests that maybe my opponent is late.

I don't exactly know who I'm there to fight. I just know (somehow) that I'm here to throw hands and win and that my friends are here acting like some kind of henchmen back-up.

Dan speaks up again and suggests they all wait in the garage and tells me to yell out when I need back-up. I agree and hand him the keys. As they all walk off, Ellie hands me a pair of white, suede, heel-less platforms (also known as ghost shoes) and tells me they will help in the fight. I raise an eyebrow at her but she walks off without another word.

I look down to see an albino snail by my feet. His little eyestalks come out and he looks up at me. I feel myself smile.

I look up again and Jayne Brook is there in a dramatic, black, villain outfit. She has a long cape and sharp, shoulder pads. Standing next to her in a pink wig and a white business suit is the drag queen Sharon Needles.

I bend down and start putting the white heels on. Jayne Brook readies herself into a fighting position. We both face each other with our fists raised for a minute until she sighs and drops her arms to her sides. She says she's tired of fighting: I agree and comment that it feels like we've been fighting for decades. She suggests we just let Sharon Needles fight my group of friend-henchmen. I agree to her terms, shake her hand and watch as she leaves through the living room.

Sharon walks over to me. She stands in front of me, smiles and crushes the albino snail under her heel. I stare at her in horror as she twists her shoe and then storms off to the garage.

-

We're on a Viking ship. I'm sitting next to Brienne, who is trying not to vomit into a bucket. I look around and all of the GoT characters are on this voyage. Everyone looks serious, as if we're heading into battle. I then hear the captain yelling orders, and as I look up, it's Kit Harrington...in a red dress. He's wearing a full-length, red ball-gown with his hair tied up into a bun with a red ribbon. He's yelling motivational things as Jon Snow but I can't help but start laughing. All the characters scowl at me as if I'm being disrespectful.

I try and explain that Jon's character doesn't dress like that but Arya Stark tells me to shut up or she'll gut me. Tormund leans over and whispers "I'd fuck him in that dress."

-

We're in someone's uni bedroom. I don't know how I can tell that: I just can for some reason. Lili, Pea and I are sitting on the bed. Lili is in her pyjamas, so I assume it's her room (even though it looks nothing like her room in real life).

We're all discussing university and how it's had an adverse effect on our mental health. My stomach grumbles loudly and Pea rolls over and lazily groans "saaame". We decide to order food, so she opens her laptop. The Google home-screen is seemingly inverted, with the white background being black and the text being a cobalt blue. Pea comments that she wants to order from somewhere called Taco Pizza, where they put slices of pizza in taco shells and douse them in hot cheese. I counter with a desire to order from Papa Johns and explain that I always order from there when I come to London because we can't get it delivered back home in Wivenhoe.

-

Cut back to the garden. Sharon Needles is storming up the garden with a very blackened eye, followed by Wes and Lili looking very smug. She walks over to me to have a go at me but I don't want to hear what she has to say: I swing my fist at her for smashing the snail from earlier.

She dodges and uppercuts me hard. I maintain my balance and punch her in the ribs, making her fall to the floor and wriggle around in pain. Lili runs over to check if I'm okay. I can feel one of my molars moving slightly in the gum but I shake my head and say I'm fine.

Wes and Lili go into the house and I stand outside for a moment, looking at the snail on the floor. Upon initial inspection, the shell looks undamaged but, as I start to move him around, the snail comes out of his shell to reveal puncture wounds throughout his little body.

I start freaking out, however, when I realise it's bleeding red blood like a human would. I grit my teeth in panic and yell: the tooth split on impact. I open my mouth and spit it out. It's a yellow/brown colour.

-

It's midnight. I'm in bed, nearly drifting off. Just before I slip into deep sleep, I hear a loud camera shutter. I sit up, delirious, looking around the room. There's no one there. I hear it again and walk over to my window to investigate: out in her garden, Mary is standing there in the dark with someone else, taking photos.

At first, I thought she was photographing our garden but then I realised it was hers. I overhear her conversation with whoever was out there with her and hear her say "can't wait to move."

I jump back into bed and message the house chat about it but Wes is sceptical. I go back to sleep and, the next morning, I come downstairs to see Wes looking out of the kitchen window at the moving van. Men are walking back and forth, loading various pieces of furniture from Mary's house.

"Well, you told me so," Wes said as I walked over. I open my mouth to reply but more teeth fall out. They've turned a charcoal colour and I can feel them splitting in mouth, the sharp edges digging into my gums. I start panicking and pull them out on the left side: they slip out painlessly but the sight of them sends me into a frenzy of ripping all of them out. Wes turns to see me yanking my molars out and tries to pull my hand away, telling me to stop, but I can't: I just have an urge to pull them out, like popping a spot or itching a scratch.

Eventually, I pull out all of the bottom left teeth and close my mouth, feeling my upper teeth rest comfortably against my gums. I want to smile but I become self-conscious.

The Heads Dream - April 2nd, 2017

I'm standing on someone's lawn, talking to a girl through her bedroom window. She's telling me to go away or she'll call the cops but I don't understand why. For some reason, I feel like I know her, as if we're dating or something. I ask why she's yelling at me and telling me to go away. She yells back "you know what you did!" and points to the grass I'm standing on.

Next to my foot is a woman's decapitated head. I cover my mouth for fear of vomiting. Her eyes are blue, she has brown hair and orange lipstick: her facial expression is utterly mortifying. I nudge the head with my foot and then look back up at the girl in the window.

"What's that got to do with me?"

"What are you talking about? You killed her, you sicko!"

"What? I didn't kill anybody!"

"How do you explain him then?"

She points towards the bins (one black, one blue for recycling and one brown for compost): there's a bald man's decapitated head lying there. I didn't bother to look at his features this time: I simply picked up his head like a bowling ball, with two fingers in his eye sockets and one in his nostril and threw it in the brown bin.

The girl starts retching and pulls the curtains closed. I stand there, protesting my innocence loudly, yelling "I didn't do this!" over and over again, hoping she'd come back and open the curtains. When she didn't, I decided to give up yelling.

I looked down at the other head. It was disgusting and I couldn't stand to look at it anymore. I pulled down the sleeves of my jumper and picked it up, also throwing it into the recycling bin. I realised that even if I hadn't put my hands on that head, I had put it on the other. The police would be able to trace it back to me, even though I was sure I didn't kill them. Then again, I couldn't remember if I'd killed them: I might have done it earlier and not realised.

I go through the girl's front door and into a hotel corridor, all white, reminiscent of the ones from The Matrix. I look down to see I'm holding a key card: it's a white rectangle with a thick, black stripe on it. I'm not sure which door this key is for but, coincidentally, it opened the first one I tried it on.

Inside, Lili and my film teacher (Ian) were packing a large, navy suitcase with clothes. I ask them what they're doing and they give me a confused look. Lili explains that Ian is taking us to a talk in a bookshop where they're discussing the representation of capitalism in movies. I don’t remember agreeing to it but I decide it's best to just go with them and see what it's like.

Cut to a corner shop. We're all sitting cross-legged on the floor (about 14 of us) in front of the front desk of a corner shop. I turn to Lili and ask what happened to going to the bookshop. Lili turns to me, confused, pointing out that this was the bookshop. I didn't argue.

The speaker came out from the backroom: she was a small woman who wore an ugly, yellow dress with a lavender print on it over a long sleeved, khaki top. I remember thinking how horrendous her fashion sense was. She started the talk by describing the film 'They Live' (1988) and I nodded in agreement. I zoned out for most of the talk until I heard her say "Jesus", which is when I decided to listen again.

I noticed that Ian was suddenly standing and looking at her angrily. I turned to Lili but she'd disappeared. Ian was yelling at the woman, telling her that the inclusion of Christianity in the talk was unnecessary and to "stop forcing your stupid religious propaganda down everyone's throats". The woman told him he'd burn in hell and that Jesus is the light of the world, so she only listens to him. I remember standing up and agreeing with Ian, saying religion wasn't relevant to the discussion. I also chastised her for arranging it in a corner shop and not a bookshop.

The woman started to argue that religion is always relevant, especially in film, and that was when I recognised her as Mrs. Carmody from the film 'The Mist' (2007), the fanatic Christian nut-job. I nudged Ian and told him to drop it: we weren't going to get anywhere with her.

As he gave up, Billy Ray Cyrus walked into the shop. Carmody became flustered and started fawning over him, saying she was a big fan and asked if she could get him anything.

"I'll just get a pack of smokes."
"Of course, Billy!"
"It's Mr. Billy Ray, actually."

"Oh, sorry, Mr. Cyrus."
"No, it's Mr. Billy Ray. Cyrus is my daughter's name."
"Sorry, Mr. Billy."

"What? No! If it's Billy, it's just Billy, but I like to be addressed as Mr. Billy Ray."

This back and forth went on for a few minutes until the woman became so irritated and confused that she pulled a hunting knife from out of her dress and held it to his throat.

"I'm sorry I keep getting your name wrong! Lord knows I tried. But you are insufferable, Mr. Billy Ray Cyrus. The Lord bids me to rid you from his sight."

"Hey, you got the name right!"

With that, she sliced his head clean off and it tumbled to the ground. She pointed the knife at me and asked me to pick it up. I said no and she looked confused. She told me that I hadn't had a problem "picking up the other two". I yelled at her, asking how she knew about that. She told me I was the one who kept killing people and she was covering it up. Then I woke up.

The Journey To Hospital Dream - March 31st, 2017

[FOREWORD - I don't think Shane Dawson is a predator, that's just what happened in my dream!]

This isn't where the dream starts off but the earliest point I remember is packing a bag in a small blue room with Lili. I was throwing my keys and phone and books into my black backpack because we were going to the hospital to visit someone. I didn't know who it was: I only knew that they were important.

It cuts to me walking down Sproughton Road in Ipswich at night (probably around 9pm) with Shannon and Thelma (friends from high school). As we pass the roundabout at the bottom of the road, a minivan full of young people who are counting down (but not 3, 2, 1 it was 4, 3, 9: also I think they were yelling the numbers backwards, as in 9, 3, 4 in German, but I'm not entirely sure) to jump out last minute into a Morrisons car park. Thelma asks if we should help them because they might injure themselves. Shannon scoffs and points to the crowd where most of them have already jumped out and dusted themselves off. She tells us they're probably fine and that Thelma is making us late.

I start complaining that the hospital is so far away and that we'll get there a lot quicker if we take a bus from the co-op (which apparently is only five minutes from where we are). As I say that, a 66 bus full of people partying and laughing speeds around the corner and drives off. I shout "damn it" loudly and Shannon laughs. She then suggests we take the shortcut through Sproughton.

We walk for a while and at this point in the dream, I'm not even paying attention to where we are anymore. I don't care because I know we're just walking and that's boring. It's not until I look down and realise I'm opening someone's conservatory door that I notice I've broken into someone's house. I panic, walking faster and I go past a kitchen with people in it. I don't look at them in fear they'll attack me or something, but the weird thing is that I hear them nonchalantly go "oh there's Kirsten", so they knew I was there and didn't mind.

I go through to the patio and there's a woman sitting at the table with Paige (another friend from high school) and Lili. This woman also had three kids there: a boy and a girl (probably around 13) and another girl (around 5). She exclaims happily when I walk over that they've been waiting for me for ages. I force a smile but I still have no idea who these people are or why Paige and Lili are there.

I look around and spot three black cats sitting on one of the tables. I walk over to stroke them and realise one is Midget. Completely taken aback, I pick her up and cuddle her, making silly baby noises. I carry her over to the table and ask why she's here. The woman explains that they've been babysitting all the cats since my parents went on holiday. I put Midget down and pick up Oscar, who's gotten considerably fatter. I ask where my parents are now but the woman shrugs. As I finish my sentence, a large man bursts through the door with other assumed family members. He's loud and jolly and American. He wore a white shirt with a mustard stain on the right-hand side, denim jeans and a baseball cap that had the American flag on it. I tried not to laugh when he walked over to me but, in the end, I came to like him.

He stroked Oscar's head and told me out of all of them, he was his favourite to look after. Apparently he was so laid back and sat with him while he watched football. I put Oscar down, content that my cats have been looked after. I walk back over to the table where everyone is sitting and one of the new family members, an older son (probably 19) stands up to open a side-gate: Lunar wanted to go outside. I stared at the mum: for some reason, although I'd never been here, I knew the side-gate led out onto the road and I didn't want Lunar to run out and get hit by a car. The woman laughs at my expression and says Lunar will come back in: sure enough, she runs out for about 30 seconds and then runs back in because it's raining. I breathe a sigh of relief and then, to my horror, I hear Jayne's bellowing voice yelling "hellooo". I turn around to see my parents come through the side-gate, my dad looking quite tan and Jayne dressed in her usual black, summer clothes.

The couple welcome my parents, the American shaking my dad's hand and joking with them. I realise they all must know each other, although I've never met this couple before, so I assume they're new friends that I haven't met. After all, they must be friends: Jayne wouldn't let just anyone take care of our cats.

The American guy invites us all to go into the kitchen and grab a quick snack before we all leave. I go in with Lili and Paige (who weirdly have both not spoken a word to me the entire time) into the kitchen only to find it's like a large pantry of food: all the shelves are covered in various sweets and drinks. The gap to get in was so small and I felt how fat I was by barely brushing through it. There were twinkies, blue liquorice wheels, Bueno hippos, plain muffins, sour fizzy bottles, cookies, wafers with chocolate spread in between and so much more. I kept picking up different items and putting them down, being unable to pick just one. After a while I settled on a twinkie, seeing as we don't get them much over here in England, and walked over to the 13-year old daughter. She stood in front of a crate of Sprite, looking confused. I asked her what's wrong and she pointed to a white, supermarket label in the midst of all the bottles: it read 12-25 iGreen Iced Tea. I didn't know what that meant until I realised some of the bottles weren't Sprite: they were packs of green glassed bottles (similar to Carlsberg) of six that were labelled 'Green Iced Tea'.

I asked the daughter what the problem was: she explained that she didn't know what the '12-25' meant or the 'I' in front of 'Green'. I nodded in agreement: I assumed the '12-25' stood for units and that the 'I' was a stylistic choice. She picked up a pack, shrugged and walked away. As she did, she bumped into the 13-year old boy and had some kind of argument with him I couldn't hear, but I got a weird incestuous vibe from it and decided to ignore it.

After a while, everyone had their snacks, so I walked over to the owners of the home and my parents to say goodbye. The woman was sad and asked why I couldn't stay a little longer, so I explained that I had to get to the hospital to visit someone. When she asked who, I became embarrassed because I still couldn't remember who it was I had to visit: in the end, I lied and said Hugh Jackman and, for some reason, they all believed that.

Jayne suddenly jumped on the bandwagon, offering to help and give us a lift or something. I turned round to Paige and Lili who were now Thelma and Shannon again. I couldn't understand why they'd changed faces but I didn't question it. I turned back and said we were fine and that we could make our own way. Jayne then insisted and I couldn't be bothered to argue with her, so I agreed.

I then got annoyed because she kept chatting to the family members and asking which pub she should drive my dad to. He then commented that he had to shower and shave first and Jayne was nodding, as if she'd forgotten completely that she was supposed to be giving me a lift. I got angry and shouted at her, telling her not to offer help if she's not going to follow through with it. She simply said "well I offered to be polite, I didn't think you'd actually take me up on it". Frustrated, I threw my twinkie to the floor and stomped off.

In the hallway next to the kitchen, I notice a trap door is open, so I follow it underground. Underneath the house is what appears to be a wine cellar of some kind with giant barrels of mead and smaller barrels of merlot. I look around and spot Shane Dawson dressed as Lady Gaga in the 'Applause' music video taking off the jeans of the unconscious 13-year old daughter. I start yelling at him to stop and he looks around and laughs.

"It's not what you think! Turns out the 12-25 on the packaging means how old they have to be to drink it. I like them young."

I run over and kick him square in the face: he falls back onto his back and poofs into thin air. I kneel down, putting the girl's jeans back on, mumbling "that doesn't explain what the 'I' is for" under my breath. I see the bottles next to her and realise she hadn't even opened one yet because it had a metal cap on top, one you'd need a bottle opener for. I sighed and picked her up to take her upstairs, still unsure of what I'd just seen.

As I go upstairs, I find myself in a hospital waiting room. I look around to see Thelma and Shannon sitting in chairs, reading magazines. My black backpack is next to Thelma. I realise at that moment that the 13-year old flung over my shoulder has vanished. I asked where she was and Shannon gives me a weird look, explaining that she's been in her hospital bed the whole time, and that's why we were here with her books and stuff. Thelma quips in with "she's the person we were visiting in the first place, remember?"

The Thomas Sanders Dream - February 27th, 2017

I'm sitting with Thomas Sanders (the Vine/YouTube celebrity) on the steps of a water fountain. He seems really sad about something, so I ask him what's wrong. He dramatically turns to me and says he's pining for someone but he's not sure they've noticed him or are aware of his existence. Thinking he might mean me, I flirt with him asking, what her name is. To my disappointment, it's not me, but some other bitch named Dreeva Pajeet.

Thomas bursts into song about his love and how he wants to be with her. He sings about her filming her new film in the Dolby theatre and that there are a lot of security guards surrounding the area. He becomes resigned when he realises he's only one man and can't break in by himself. Feeling genuinely sorry for him, and hoping I can make him notice me by helping, I offer to wear a disguise and break in with him.

Then I burst into song about how fun it is to dress up and there's a weird montage of us trying on costumes. At one point, I'm wearing large, gold hoops, a gold, skater dress (though I recall looking over at a clown costume on the wall which was multicoloured and large like a parachute/poncho type of thing) and I stuck a fuzzy bear sticker on my cheek. Thomas was wearing mini moustache stickers and laughed every time I came out wearing something new. I remember distinctly holding a packet of mini moustache stickers in my hand which also contained three paper backs with studs in them and there was a pair of electric blue flower earrings with screws at the centre of the flowers. I remember them so vividly because I wanted them in real life and wondered if I'd seen them before or made them up.

I tell Thomas that I'm ready and to wish me luck. We're suddenly in my parents' living room and apparently the stairs door is really the stage door in disguise and that Pajeet is upstairs. I open the door and hop up about five steps when cats start running down the stairs out of no where and I hear explicit moaning. I'm suddenly in a lilac room with Lili and we're looking at a small wardrobe with a shoe stand in it. Every shoe is a different style and seemingly tiny but they're all black and either have neon green stripes or neon orange stripes on them. I become confused and tell Lili that I think I like them but there's something off about the design, something not quite right. I look over to my right as the moaning starts again and I see two people under some sheets, clearly having sex. I get a few glimpses of their faces and realise it's my dad and Pajeet (who weirdly looks like Pea). I ask Lili why they're just there having loud sex: she explains that it's just a play, though there is no stage nor audience…just us and a small wardrobe.

Suddenly I'm back on the stairs again. I blink a few times and then walk back down them to find Thomas waiting eagerly on  my sofa. I shake my head and explain that Pajeet loves another man. At that moment, my dad walks through the stairs door and sees me.

Seeing Thomas upset breaks my heart, so I ask my dad how the sex with Pajeet was, hoping he'd say he doesn't love her. He says it was great but the "tummy thing" was something to get used to. We both give him a weird look, he laughs and says "well she's a snake, isn't she? Her vagina is on her stomach, like a snake." I'm still confused at this point but Thomas draws me a quick sketch of her supposed anatomy and he nods, saying my dad is indeed correct. I'm about to say "that's not how snakes work" but my dad is already gone.

Thomas and I are alone again, in the same place at the start of the dream. I tell him that I'm sorry about Pajeet but there are other people that love him. I move in for a kiss, and I'm inches away from his cheek, when I notice Pajeet is standing in the middle of the fountain with our backs to us, talking to three other snake-like women. I suddenly become enraged: I just want Thomas to myself without this bitch always interfering. I storm off and suddenly the dream becomes third person POV.

Thomas sits there, not really noticing I've gone, looking gloomy. The water fountain (originally a large, vertical structure) suddenly stretches out to look like a small reservoir (like the ponds in Wivenhoe park). Pajeet is still in the middle with her three friends and Thomas is on the very edge. He notices her and starts wading into the water.

I appear on the other side, fixated on Pajeet. My skin is green and I dramatically brush my hair out of my face to reveal I'm a lizard person. I also have two other lizard people with me.

I yell at Pajeet, telling her she's a disgrace to our kind, and then throw tasers into the middle of the reservoir. One by one, they become electrocuted and die, and I suddenly realise Thomas is behind them, and he's electrocuted too.

The dream ends with me laying him out on the grass, pouring bleach into his mouth and pretending he's serenading me. His eyes are blank and lifeless but I sit watching him, smiling like a mad person.

The Pee Dream - December 29th, 2016

I start off in English GCSE, Ms Salter's class, circa 2008/2009. I get the feeling there was part of a dream prior to this scene, but I don't remember it, I only have a hunch. The class is relatively straightforward, except we talk about maths at one point, which doesn't make any sense.

There's suddenly an alarm bell: it's not a normal fire alarm, it's more like an electronic wailing, a similar noise to WW2 sirens. Ms Salter demands we all get up and run for our lives, and to take a buddy with us, in case we get lost. As I'm running down the B-block corridor, I spot Veronique (who is now 6 years old for some reason instead of 13 like the rest of us). She's wearing a dorky, white pom-pom hat and a baby pink poncho over her school uniform. I grab her hand (which is covered in a white, glittery mitten) and start running.

The crowd begins to become one being and we're swept away from high school until we found ourselves in some kind of underground London train station. There were two columns of dark, grey, steel staircases leading up above ground to the city. I stood there watching people scream and push, wondering what could be causing such a commotion. As I ascended one of the sets of stairs, I felt Vez slip through my hand. I started yelling out for her, telling her to find her sister, and find a safe place to hide. I wasn't sure if I'd ever make it back down there to come get her but I wanted her to be safe.

As I got to the surface, I realised I was on a bridge in London. It wasn't one I recognised but there were thousands of people there, all looking up at the sky. I made my way through the crowd until I was at the railing's edge and then noticed my dad was standing on my left.

 "Oh my god, hi!" I said.

"Hey, chunks. Are you okay? How's school?"

"Well everything's a bit hectic, considering everyone is running for their lives. What's going on?"

"It’s the parachutes."

Apparently, a parachute demonstration had gone wrong during the day, and two gigantic chutes were heading towards London, and it was estimated that the impact would kill 90% of the population. According to my dad, everyone was on the bridge because they were evacuating, and you could see the parachutes from there. I looked up to see one coming straight towards us, with another close behind in the distance. The parachutes themselves looked more like those kind of kites made up of multiple cubes, you know, box kites, except instead of just two squares stacked on top of each other, they were 3 x 3 multicolour squares.

The first parachute smacked into the side of the bridge and broke it in half, taking hundreds of people to their deaths. My dad and I didn't react at first: we just stood there staring in awe. Then we noticed the other one was coming towards us. The second kite was a lot smaller and I decided I could take it on. My dad told me not to but I was determined to save the other half of the bridge. I jumped up onto the bonnet of a blue Mk2 ford Escort and caught the kite mid-air: it sent me flying backwards off the car, but as I rolled to a stop on the floor, I had the kite in my hands.

Everyone was cheering and helping me up, and then I started walking with three figures who also had similar kites in their hands, which I'm assuming they caught before the other two. As I sped up to greet them, I realised the leader was James Corden. He explained that there was a large, industrial rubbish bin at the end of the bridge and that they were on their way to throw out the kites. The others all seemed very serious but I was having fun: I opened the kite every now and again to drag me in short, fast bursts along the bridge. I tried to get Corden to cheer up, but that's when we came across the end of the bridge, and it was a dead end. There was just a forest, blocked by a barricade of giant nettles and thorny tree branches. There were no bins, just foliage.

 "Well that's just fucking typical, isn't it?" James shouted. He threw the kite down and stormed off.

One of the others approached me: I recognised him as Alex, a kid from my English GCSE class. He asked me to walk with him because he knew another way, so I did. He walked ahead with Colossus from X-Men and I walked behind with Poppy (another kid from my class). Poppy and I were just generally chatting on the walk: I told her about my life since high school and she did the same. She asked me what I was holding in my other hand, and I looked down to see I was clutching my small baggie of septum jewelry in my free hand. I didn't say anything because I couldn't explain how it'd gotten there.

Up ahead, Alex said we should fire Ms Salter. I ask why: I think she's genuinely nice and has never done me any wrong. Alex retorts that she isn't a good teacher and she's always picking on him. I reply that I'm indifferent: she helped my pass my first exam and I appreciated her help. I wasn't about to go backstabbing her. Poppy agreed with me, saying she was off sick for the first few months of our classes, and that Salter helped her pass as well. Alex looks annoyed and walks up some cobbled stairs we've come across, and as Poppy goes ahead of me, I notice a stripe going down her back. To begin with, I thought it was a deep, blackened scar down her spine: I then realised it was the zipper of her dress. Thing is, a moment ago, she was wearing jeans and a hoodie: it's at this point I realise I'm dreaming and things aren't making any sense.

We continue to walk through a building that looks very much like a cross between Ipswich Hospital and Suffolk One college: the walls are beige and everything smells of disinfectant. The corridors never seem to end, and after what feels like an hour, I complain that we're probably going in circles. Alex reassures me that we're going the right way and Poppy and I share a concerned glance at each other.

As we walk around a corner with a blue sign on it (reading 'disabled people are a liability'), we come across a corridor with one side that is completely windows. I look out to see we're somewhere in the forest we came across earlier on the bridge: Alex is right, he somehow found a way. Poppy cajoles me to catch up, but as I start walking again, I feel myself peeing. I look down in horror but I can't see anything: I can just feel the sensation of wetting myself. The worst part is that you could hear it: there was a loud urinating sound ringing through the corridor. For some reason, it was the loudest to me: it was like someone was blaring it through a speaker. To the others, they could barely hear it: for Colossus and Poppy, it was like music is playing through your headphones in your bag and you can just about comprehend that something is playing. Alex didn't hear it at all: he was too focused on finding a way through the building.

 "Hey, does anyone hear that?" Poppy said. I turned bright red and started stumbling over my words.

"Must be the waterpipes…old building…bad plumbing…definitely that and nothing else!"

I notice a blue exit door, and as soon as the others pass it, I drop my bin bag and run through. I'm now in a white corridor that goes round in a square: on the first side, there's a classroom with people in it. As I approach and open the door (B112), I realise it's a computer lab of some sorts and people are doing ICT/computer-science in there. Amongst the students, there were no teachers, but I realised my old high school friend Connor was there as well as some other girls and Daniel sitting at the back.
Crossing my legs, I ask where the ladies room is. One girl tells me it's on the first floor, next to something called 'the Tumblr lounge' and the disabled toilets: she also informs me there is a lift around the corner and that I should take it to get there. Then Connor starts sneering at me, calling me names. I don't say anything, I just watch him, fascinated by his sudden hatred for me. Then Daniel stands, walks over to him, and punches him so hard in the face that his two front teeth fall out. He looks at me, puts his thumbs up and then resumes his computer work at the back of the room. I leave without saying a word.

The second side of the corridor is just what I presume to be a teacher's coat room or something, but the third side is a bunch of yellow lockers, and the fourth side is a changing room: there are muscular men in yellow towels drying off their hair and sweating profusely, as if they've just been in a sauna. I notice that by one of the benches is not only my bin bag but actress Joan Cusack rummaging through it. I sneak up behind her and delicately pull a pair of  boxers out of the bag without her noticing: they are sky-blue with white cats in red collars on them. As soon as I get hold of them, I run to the lockers (which have now turned into toilet cubicles) to change my pants.

When I get in the cubicle, I go to pee, but I can't. It's like I drained my bladder. However, when I go to change my pants, the original pair are bone-dry and there's no indication that I've wet myself. I sit there and reminisce about an episode of Stranger Things, where Dustin's character was constipated and was comforted by his friend Mike and that Iron Giant guy played by Vin Diesel.

I realise that's not a real episode and that the cubicle and the men and everything probably wasn't real. I wonder if I just need to pee in real life and that's why I'm dreaming about it. Then I woke up.

The Four Act Dream - November 28th, 2016

[FOREWORD - This is probably the longest dream I've ever had and it was insanely difficult to write down: it took me over an hour to write it up. It's aptly called 'The Four Act Dream' because, as the title suggests, it was a dream split into four sections]. 

ACT 1

I was standing in the middle of my high school field, surrounded by at least 100 other people. I wasn't entirely sure what I was doing there, but I was wandering around eating a ham sandwich, interacting with everyone. Eventually, a guy in some sort of a traditional, Japanese theater costume (I'm guessing it was Kabuki because he wore white face paint with striking, black lines and occasional dots of red) stood up on a crate in front of everyone and called for our attention. He said the world has been cruel lately and we need to come together.

As he's talking, I notice a large, cornered off section of the field: it was a square, set out by short, stone walls, and the inner section starts off flat and ends in a hill. Down the hill, I realise there are people climbing up it, all Africans. I spin round and look at my group and realise there are no black people. I run over to help the people up the hill and, eventually, parts of my group notice me helping and come over to help too. The Japanese man looks evidently annoyed that I interrupted his monologue. The new set of people also have a guy in traditional get-up, specifically African war paint, and he's very kind and very friendly.

The Japanese man strides over as the last child makes it up the hill and demands we all hold hands and celebrate the "unison of diversity". A small, Asian woman yanks the sandwich out of my hand and delicately places it on the wall. She nods at me, as if to suggest it'll be there when we get back.

We start walking down the hill, humming some kind of peaceful song. Every now and then I would crane my neck around to see if my sandwich was still there. It was, but it was starting to droop down on one side, suggesting it might fall off at any given point. This filled me with anxiety but I carried on the peaceful march anyway. The march has become somewhat split, in that half the people are already walking alongside the opposite side of the square with the African leader. He is skipping with a young girl and laughing and generally having a good time.

Suddenly, from behind me, I hear the Japanese leader choking. I turn around and his eyes have rolled into the back of his head. I'm guessing he's having a heart attack or some kind of stroke, but everyone around us is panicking, wondering what to do.

Then he randomly teleports to the middle of the square. He's still choking a little but he's recovering. He beckons the African leader to the centre and says they should put on a show. The African man agrees and beckons one of the younger men to contribute. Unfortunately, the Japanese man picks me. I waddle forward and out of nowhere, the show begins: it becomes apparent very quickly that we're re-enacting scenes from Star Wars but they're wrong. The African man is playing Luke Skywalker and is fighting with the other young man, who is playing Obi Wan Kenobi.

I'm knocked to my feet and look up to see someone cosplaying as Darth Vader, trying to kill me. I quickly look down at myself and realise I'm dressed as Rey. I look for my light saber but can't find it. The Darth Vader groans and points to my side. "It's there, silly."

I look to my right. It's a black chopstick with a faint, blue light at the end.

I pick it up and start play fighting with Vader. At one point, Vader has me pinned to the ground, and I'm holding my chopstick over my head so his saber doesn't slice through mine. I managed to tear the mask away and it's actually Carrie Fischer. I'm star-struck for a moment and then resume the scene. We're having some kind of witty back and forth banter (I can't remember the dialogue specifically but it was very dramatic) and, at one point, I remember staring longingly over Carrie's shoulder to see my still half-eaten sandwich on the wall.

Someone yells "scene" and I push Carrie back, accidentally causing her to smack her head against one of the stone walls.

"Oh shit I'm so sorry, are you okay?" I say, rushing over. 

She laughs and rubs the back of her head, assuring me she's fine. She stands up and we both look over to see a man in his 40s, round spectacles, baby blue polo shirt, very white trousers and disgustingly white-blonde hair tutting and wagging his finger. He points at the African leader.

"You guys have the choreography down, very impressive arm movement. Careful on the fourth swing there, Brian." He looks at us. "Your choreography wasn't as up to par but that improvisation at the end with blocking the saber? Bravo, genius, mi amore. The dialogue as well was very fitting. Work on your footwork next time, though."

I sort of nod and look at Carrie. We're both confused because we thought we did a pretty good job. I look over and my sandwich is gone. I sigh and drop my chopstick, dejectedly.

ACT 2

I'm in a room, quite similar to my living room, except the TV is replaced with a desk and a chair, the sofa in the back corner is a few feet off the ground on top of some drawers and the other sofa is now a therapist couch. I'm sitting on the back corner sofa with Daniel (my friend). Ellie is sitting near the door in one of the swivel chairs. Wes is laying on the therapist couch.

The therapist in question had no name, and their gender changed constantly throughout the dream, so I have no idea what they really were. All I know is that they always wore rounded, old-fashioned glasses, they had chestnut coloured hair and they were Australian.

The therapist starts off talking to Wes about his childhood and then, without even looking at me, points their pen in my direction. "What about yours?" they say, not taking their eyes off Wes. 

I kind of stumble to begin with but then start confidently relaying everything. It leaves me feeling a little defeated and hurt because it wasn't apparent that this was my session and I didn't particularly want to talk about it.

The therapist resumes talking to Wes and Daniel leans over in my ear and whispers "wow, she's really good! I might consider going here". I look up at him and suddenly think about him in therapy. I'd never considered someone like Daniel to even want therapy. I nod in agreement but say nothing. He looks disappointed with my lack of response.

"Don't you have some input? Like, do you think I should?"

"I think that's entirely up to you. It's a very personal and sometimes harrowing experience," is what I eventually reply with. This answer doesn't seem to sit well with him either.

"Well, did it help you?"

I'm quiet. I wonder if counselling had helped me or not. I think about Vickie, my old counsellor, and all the weeks she helped me amble along in life. I suddenly become very regretful of everything. I spiral in my own head and wonder why I'm here, how I'm here, why I should try. Daniel seems to pick up on this and randomly starts hugging me. I just sit there startled.

He tells me it's okay and then says "next act".

ACT 3

I'm walking up some grandiose stairs. The banister has a sleek, oak finish. I run my hand along it, thinking "wow, this is a fucking impressive staircase. Whoever lives here is minted."

At the top of the staircase, there are four rooms: the one closest is the bathroom. I knock gently and enter. Nobody is in there. I look down to realise I'm carrying something in one hand: two towels, a plastic bag with three children's swimming costumes in it, and my phone. I pull the costumes out of the bag. They're all children's bikinis, except only the top halves are included and some swimming caps which are far too small. One is black with a frilly lace edge, one is bright, neon pink, orange and black, and one has cartoon fish on it.

I stand there, dumbfounded as to why I have these, until I hear the door open and someone enter.

It's my old best friend from high school, Amy. She looks older now: her frizzy, ginger hair is a bit bigger, but she herself has slimmed out tremendously. She's wearing ripped jeans and a white crop top with a floral pattern on it. She smiles and nods at me as she comes in, as if she was expecting my arrival.

"Long time no see," she says, as she walks in and puts her phone on the edge of the sink. She suddenly pulls the top over her head and starts stripping and I'm left in the corner, blushing, wondering what to do with my eyes. I choose a spot on the ceiling and continue the conversation.

 "I know, right? How is life? How's your boyfriend?" I see her smile out of the corner of my eye as she pulls her jeans down.

 "It's good. I'm going to Africa or Mexico or something with him in the summer, nice holiday away or something. Can you pass me the neon-coloured one?" I look down from the ceiling and at her.

 "What?"

She indicates to the children clothing in my hand. "The neon one. Pass it, please?"

 I sceptically hand over the garment, wondering what she's going to do with it. She couldn't possibly fit in it, even with all the weight she'd lost: it's literally designed for 8-year olds. Lo and behold, though, she tugs the top down over her bra and it magically fits. I'm amazed and look down at the black bikini top. Now I'm half tempted to try it. Amy is clearly on the same wave length because she then says "come on, you need to put one on too!"

I put the towels and remaining bikini set down on a green shelf behind me and pull my shirt off. As I take the bikini top out of the package and pull it down over myself, I can feel the material moving as if it were breathing, and moved so that it would fit. I pulled it down and looked in the mirror. I smiled. It looked really nice on me.

I look over to Amy who has gotten into the shower. She turns on the shower head and pulls the curtain across. Thing is, the curtain isn't very opaque, and as she pulls her bikini off, I can pretty much see everything. I stand there in awe for a second because she's extremely hot. Then I kind of snap out of it and start to question what's going on.

 "Wait, where did we bump into each other?"

 "At the field gathering inside of Westbourne, remember?" I assume at this point that she means the place from act one.

 "Why am I here? Where are we going?"

 "Well, I'm getting ready to go out. I'm going to a party. I invited you but you didn't want to go, something about not wanting to see anyone there."

 "Why wouldn't I want to go?"

 "It's at Westbourne."

I stop talking at that point. If it's Westbourne, then it would make sense that I wouldn't want to go, because I hated that place so much. I put my head down sadly as Amy clambered out of the shower. I offered her a towel without looking at her and she rubbed herself dry, then wrapped her hair up in a makeshift turban. I handed her another towel to cover her modesty and then I felt her manicured hand on my shoulder. I looked up at her.

"It's such a shame, you know. Look how different I am now. I'm fairly rich, I'm skinnier, I have a boyfriend…how different are you, Kirsten?"

ACT 4

I blink and I'm in a beige hallway. For some reason, I can hear Willam from Drag Race walking up a nearby corridor, bitching very loudly about how shit I am. I choose to ignore that and walk away. At the end of the hallway is a playground, which I quickly come to recognise as the Maths block playground from (you guessed it) my high school, Westbourne. I hurriedly walk across it, not wanting to look anyone in the eye. I didn't know where I was supposed to go but I knew that anywhere was better than this.

The entrance to the main building normally leads to a corridor: right for Maths and Music department, left for reception and the rest of the school. However, when I went into the entrance, it was a big yellow/beige room with loads of canteen tables and people sitting at them, eating. I found myself wandering behind each person, looking at what they were eating. Some was just macaroni and cheese, there was mouldy steak…one guy I noticed was actually a former classmate, Sean. He was eating bone marrow with the most dead-eyed expression I have ever seen. I whispered to him to catch his attention, but he simply turned his head slightly and stared at me with his motionless, sad eyes. I became freaked out and left.

I ran down a hallway to the right, but as I kept running, it became apparent that every hallway linked into another hallway and another fucking hallway until I became completely lost. I started panicking and running faster, but after what seemed hours, I gave up and sat on the carpet. I sat and sulked for a while until I heard Willam bitching about me again. I suddenly sprung to my feet: I'd heard him earlier, surely he must be somewhere near where I started.

I followed the voice until it became clearer. I could now hear what Willam was saying: "Kirsten is such a fucking bitch, though. I'm surprised anyone loves her. I wouldn't fuck that even if I was paid to. Have you seen her eyes? Or her hair? What's wrong with her?"

I slowed down running. I suddenly felt very defeated after being called such horrible things. "I know I'm a bitch!" I yell aloud to nobody. A door suddenly appears at the end of the hallway I'm currently walking down. I run to it and burst free into the open air. For a moment I'm too excited to be out to notice where I am: I'm just so set on enjoying freedom. Then I open my eyes and realise where I am: I'm in a field, with hundreds of other people, and a Japanese man in traditional, theater gear gets up on a crate box to talk.

The Vault Dream - November 23rd, 2016

We're following a woman in a baby blue squad uniform with a gun and a flashlight, surveying the back of a warehouse. You can hear her team (who have spread out) chatting to each other on the other side of some large, industrial shelves, but this woman is on the walkie-talkie to someone. It becomes evident that I am the woman, and the man I'm speaking to on the walkie-talkie is, in fact, Sherlock Holmes (Benedict Cumberbatch version).

I'm teasing him about finding the "stash" first: he thinks I'm bluffing, telling me it would be impossible to find without his help.

"No, I'm serious, it's really here!" I say, as I pry open a controls box with the butt of my gun. 

The box is empty apart from one lever, so I pull it. The wall next to me automatically opens up and I step in.

What follows are countless corridors, all separated by an automatic door with four, red lights along the top. These rooms are a white-ish green colour but I think the green tinge was because of the lighting. It was clearly underground and there were some strong bulbs in the ceiling.

I went through about 15 doors until I came to a room. It was seemingly the only room in this place, and when I stepped in, the automatic door didn't close behind me. I put my gun down and look around. Each wall has an empty display cabinet, comprised of four glass shelves, two little cupboards and four drawers. As I walk over to the back wall and reach my hand out, the cabinet starts moving and displaying secret things hidden within. The back wall shows an array of weaponry, ranging from modern firearms to vintage bayonets. The second wall displays rare gems and diamonds, some of which nobody has even seen before; I turn on my walkie-talkie.

 "Sherlock, are you there? You're not going to believe this."

As I move over to the third wall, nothing moves. I frown and tap the display cabinet but nothing. Then I hear an automated click and the drawers slide open. I bend down to look through them but I'm confused when all the first drawer has in it is Rosa Parks' profile in it. I skim through the papers as Sherlock responds on the walkie-talkie, asking what I see. The profile says that Rosa was secretly assassinated by the government because of a secret uprising she was planning in memoriam of Viola Desmond. I hurriedly open the second drawer. Anne Frank, actually lived through the war, was assassinated when she went to write another book. Third drawer: Blake Brockington, suicide was faked, assassinated for the attempt to make more strides in the LGBT civil rights movement.

I start panicking and back away from the drawers, realising I've just come across documents no one is supposed to see. I grab my gun and run out of the room, through the endless amount of doors until I run into my aunt's hallway. I look around and have somehow ended up in my aunt's house (again, might I add: I always seem to end up here in my dreams). I walk past a room with a piano and a giant, scary-looking doll. It's head turns and it kind of looks at me with it's dead, painted eyes, then turns back and resumes playing Sonata 16 by Mozart. I walk down the hallway into my aunt's kitchen, expecting either her or Chris to jump out. I remember that I'm dreaming, and I also remember that in accordance to my previous dreams, this is where I always get told I'm nothing and that I'll never achieve anything and that I'm a liar (and so on). But as I wait there, no one comes. There's no indication of either of them being home, even though the backlight is on.

I look out of the backdoor to see Mr J (an old family friend) walking around on the lawn, using a stick to prod some of the dog toys out of the way. He's muttering to himself but he looks relatively content. I then wonder how he got there, seeing as he's dead in real life.

I turn around but now the kitchen is gone and I'm back in the weird underground vault place. I start walking forward until I hear a woman's scream. Then another. Then another. Soon the room and the dream and my head seem to be filling with these blood-curdling screams, and I fall to the floor, clamping my hands on the sides of my head, hoping it'll stop. But it doesn't.

Eventually I'm driven insane and I start screaming. However, as soon as I start, the others stop. The dream just ends with me screaming bloody-murder into an open, quiet vault.