Jarod, Gunner, and I walked down to the beach of a lake. They were carrying a two-seated kayak. They placed it in the water, Jarod got in, and Gunner pushed. Gunner jumped in the water, resurfaced, then proceeded to climb in the kayak, which they both paddled across the lake to their destination. I was upset, because they hadn't told me I'd have to cross the lake, much less as the third person in a kayak meant for two. Then, I was angry they didn't wait for me, like I was just expected to jump in like Gunner. They looked back, kind of expectant and confused, though still paddling. I just turned away and walked back up the road. I found an intricate system of cabins. There I ended up cutting my wrists, falling slowly backwards in my chair, which was representative of my falling slowly into death. For some reason, though I can't remember, I needed to remain alive, so I pressed my wrists firmly against my torso, trying to apply pressure to the wounds. I remember feeling the open skin on my wrists against my bare stomach and the ribs beneath. I wandered around the interconnected cabins, still wounded. I eventually ended up in a chair surrounded by a few people, two of which were Jarod and Gunner. I was still trying not to succumb to death. Everyone there was concerned for me. There was a pot of boiling food to my left. I think it was chicken. I remember solemnly having Jarod add parsley, paprika, and celery seed, the last of which he tried closing upside down for some reason, from the assortment on my right. Then my alarm woke me up.