I have been having some crazy dreams. But that might be due to the fact that my dad is having the old garage torn down and building another one, and the machine sounds keep entering into my dreams without waking me. But the one that scared me the most was, I was in Texas, but it was weird, because nobody spoke Spanish, only Ukrainian or Lebanese. Anyway, this girl walked into some warehouse that we were all gathered in to ask for treatment, and some dude had a sack of coins that we were allowed to use for hospital bills. But they wouldn't let me help her, and she had to leave without treatment, which was bad because she was going to die. So I came up with the ingenious plan to take her to live with me, but her father was one of those guys who rules the household and has the power of life and death over his family. He told me to get out of there and never come back. But I did. I went when he wasn't there, and the rest of the family wanted her to leave with me and get better, even if they never again did see her. Well, I tried to write down my phone number for her in case she changed her mind, but every time I wrote one number, it would change and move around and it would be impossible to read. Then her father came home. The girl sneaked me out of the door, but had to leave me there, as her father called for her. Then he came outside. There was almost this kitchen island out in front of their house, and he kept walking around it and I had to keep crawling around it so he wouldn't see me. But he found me, and I just curled up into a ball and started whimpering. Then he tried to kick me, and I screamed, and two passer-by men started to yell at him for raping someone then tormenting them. The father started to run, and the crowd that cumulated behind him (for they thought that they were chasing a rapist) was massive. So the girl that's sick comes outside, and says, "I'll go with you; and never come back here. I want to live as a free person." So I took her home to my house, which it turned out to only be a 3-hour drive in Morgan's car, and somehow my brother ended up in the car, and was pestering the girl about how she was only Mexican. But everytime he said it, she responded proudly, "I am Lebanese, not Mexican."
Weird, right? That's right up there with my first nightmare about how my whole family drove into a fire pit next to I-35.
Wish me luck with little to no more fucked-up dreams.

~Marie~