Part of the final exam in my science class was an essay that I was to write at home. On the day it was due, I forgot about it until two hours after the deadline. I thought it was hopeless, but then I decided to take a chance and see if I could bring it in late and still have it accepted. The only computer I had access to was some kind of handheld device with a small, soft keyboard. It was terribly ineffecient, and I realized typing on it would take me a long time. This was combined with the fact that I had not even thought about the essay, which was supposed to be researched to some degree.
This is a minor incident compared to the many times that I have remembered at the end of a school term a class that I am enrolled in but have never attended. In such cases, I make a frantic attempt to find the location of the class, and often can't. Even when I do find it, I usually see that it's hopeless to try to catch up and make a passing grade. I have even forgotten altogether that I was enrolled in school and agonized over the situation once I was reminded of it.
I was on a bicycle trying to escape a pursuer, but something was wrong with the bike and I found it extremely difficult to control. I rode up to an auto mechanic shop to see if anyone there might know something about bicycle repair, but then saw that I was too late. The man who was after me was across the parking lot talking to a kid on a bike. Two employees of the shop sat on chairs in front of a garage that contained a large van. I entered the garage to hide, climbing up onto the roof of the van as my pursuer approached, apparently to question the two seated men. When he reached the garage, he made as if to speak but then looked up at where I was prostrate on the van. He leapt an inhuman distance to land heavily before me. I threw myself backward into a crouch, and realized that he had used some kind of technique with a power level of 4 or so. Remembering that I possessed something with a power level of 8.3, I unleashed it on him by throwing back my arms to form an X as if I held two swords. I saw him cut into four fiery pieces along the lines I had drawn.
Climbing a mountain with a friend, I was in the rear. Although the mountain was not terribly steep, the ascent was difficult because of the loose rocks. I looked up to see my friend dislodge a rock about twice the size of my head. The rock bounced away from its position and fell straight toward my head. I was unable to react in time to dodge it effectively, and only managed to move my head slightly away. I don't know how it missed me.
As you can imagine, this was an intense experience. Before I had even been able to form the thoughts, I had had a rush of feeling and had known that I didn't want to die yet. A few moments after I was reminded of my curiosity with death, but I knew that I didn't want the experience to arrive any sooner than it had to.
An army general had his troops at attention in a single line. He walked up and down the ranks, and then walked away. He wandered for over one thousand years. When he returned to the place he had left them, he found what looked like a row of statues made of dead vegetable matter. He touched the face of the first soldier in the line and its head fell off backward in a puff of dust. Half to himself and half to the viewing audience, he emotionally said, "Not one of them ever deserted." The general began to cry.
I went to someone's house in a neighborhood where large drainage ditches lined the road. A dog as big as a bear was running through different yards on the other side of the street. It seemed to look up at me occasionally with a menacing expression on its face, and I was relieved to get into the house.
Later, I was on the edge of a dock with [e]. We had planned to visit somewhere across the lake, but we weren't sure how to get across. [e] joked that we could take one of the bridges that led to the casinos out on the lake. We could see their lights flashing in the distance. It was late afternoon, but not yet very dark. [e] said that really, she thought we were just supposed to swim across. I thought it looked dangerous--it was at least a 20-foot drop to the water and the lake was very wide. I couldn't see the other side. She seemed confident that we could do it, but I thought we would drown if we tried. We were still deliberating when a man we knew came up from a cabin on the dock where he apparently lived. He asked us if we were thinking of swimming without the proper equipment. He took us around behind his cabin where a cluster of devices floated in the water below. The device looked like a buoy, but it had long thin poles like antannae. Apparently we were to hold onto the poles for balance while standing on the device to float on the water. We each pulled one up by the tall poles. I had to go to a shopping mall to buy something before we left, and it was difficult to walk through doorways while holding the device on my shoulders--the poles were about 25 feet long.
After our trip, we returned to the house in the mean dog's neighborhood. A small dog in another yard barked once nervously at the large one, provoking it to rush over and grab the smaller dog in its jaws. With the other dog in its mouth, it ran around the neighborhood as if proud of its cruelty. I picked up rocks from a pile in someone's yard and threw them at the animal, trying to get it to drop the other dog. This only made it angry at me, so I gave up and hurried for the house.
Inside, I looked out in the yard and saw a very large rough-looking man coming toward the house. I knew it was actually the large dog coming after me in a form that could get to me. He broke the door in and I quickly realized he didn't care about me specifically, but wanted to kill anyone he could catch. Everyone in the house ran up to the roof. I was the last one up, and the large man followed. When he emerged from the stairs, my dad stepped forward. I hadn't realized he was with us. My dad held a wire whisk in both hands that was about 5 feet long. He called out to the large man to fight him. I realized that with the giant whisk he was trying to appeal to our assailant's sense of humor if possible, and, that failing, he would sacrifice himself so the rest of us might have a chance to get away.
In our old house, I was sitting at the kitchen table with [r]. She was casually lighting candles on the table, and the candles were supposed to affect dreams somehow. I could feel some kind of unseen negative presence circling the table.
We were visiting someone's house, and the man who lived there had a large number of dogs. He laughed, warning me to watch out for one dog in particular who was very "affectionate." Even as he said it, the dog in question had already reached me and was pushing its face against my leg so hard I was losing my balance. I became nervous about the dog and tried to avoid it, climbing on furniture. Its gaze did not leave me and it did not blink. I imagined that if I tried to hit it or push it away--anything it would see as a threat--it would attack.
When I returned home, the pack of dogs was at my house, running from room to room. I saw them agressively cross the hall and realized they were probably after our cat [d]. I ran into the room after them to find them closing in on her. [d] eluded them and jumped onto the couch, giving her enough time to activate an emergency device that cats are equipped with when they are cornered. The thought :Help me, Human: was transmitted to my mind. I attacked the dogs, swinging my fists wildly, and drove them away.
I heard something at the window, and looked up to see a cat about four inches tall but proportioned normally, crossing back and forth on the ledge and brushing itself against the window. The cat paused to watch a fly land above it on the glass and then shot out its tongue like a frog to catch and eat the fly.
In the back of a large warehouse, I found a narrow lighted hallway with yellow carpeting. A young boy was standing before it, obviously afraid of something. He told me his name was Brandon and that he needed to go down the hall, but there was a poltergeist. I looked down the hall again, and saw that the floor had a metallic shimmer. I picked up Braondon and ran down the hall to the doorway he needed to reach. I was surprised that nothing happened to us.
I knew that I had to get rid of the poltergeist. I left the warehouse and went to a department store, where I picked up two heavy staffs to use as weapons. As I walked through the store and through a restaurant to get outside, people looked at me strangely. I didn't explain to any of them what I was doing.
I moved through different hallways in the warehouse and elsewhere, trying to encounter the poltergeist. I was afraid, and I knew that my weapons would actually have no effect, but I felt the need to do something. I tried not to think about the futility of my attempt.