Excluded at the Table/Liquid Boy

Date: 8/5/2019

I'm inside of this massive building. It feels almost like a mix between a house and a school. I'm here with a few people I know, notably my grandparents and two girls I went to high school with. I desperately want to shower, and I keep trying to get my things together to do it. However, every time I try to enter the bathroom, something comes up that demands my attention in another room. One of these rooms has a window that opens to the outside, where I see tropical foliage. It's got white walls and seems modern and comfortable. I can't remember if it's in the bathroom or if it's in the other room I came in and called two. I eventually find a tube of soap the bottom of my backpack that I can shower with, and I move it into the bathroom. Unfortunately, my grandmother calls to get my attention to care for someone. It's a little kid I've never seen before. He's been so neglected by his parents that it seems like they've completely forgotten that they had a kid. He is in a metal tub, the size of an infant but probably the age of a toddler. It almost looks like a pot on a stove. He's moved so little in his life that his muscles never formed right and he fills the pot like a living soup. He doesn't seem to be in pain. He just desperately wants attention. Though I want to leave, my grandma keeps telling me to come back and care for him. I eventually leave to a light wood table where about 15 people could sit. Here, the two girls from my high school, Josie and Natashia, need to read a book. One sits on either side of me and they open the book in front of me, but look at me like I shouldn't be there. I realize that they were trying to read the book between the two of them and dropping not subtle hint that I was not welcome. I say sorry and I moved myself to the other side of the table to sit alone. I'm a little surprised that they had the gall to just exclude me in such an abrasive way. One says something to the other about the use of a slur in the book oh, and I look up for some reason and ask them, "What?" as if I was supposed to hear it. They mock me for even being a part of their conversation. Beneath the table, there are buckets of pretzel sticks. The little ones. I remember eating them and they tasted fine, if a little bit stale. I think I was just hungry after all of the work I had done. I still have to go somewhere after this that's outside. Throughout the dream I keep imagining that I have found Sergi somewhere, but he always turns out to be someone else when I get close enough to hold him. I got so hopeful when I think I've found him, but I feel so empty when I realize it's not.