Long and strange

Date: 4/4/2019

I can’t remember how it started but I found something important, it granted me a lot of money or material things. I was at my dads old house when it happened, he left as usual and I was trapped there. I met an old high school friend and co worker, also stuck in my dads old house. I told her how to escape before he got back, we went to my then neighbors who irl house was abandoned. Inside it was now beautifully renovated and restored. I told her not to leave the kitchen as that was where the heart was and the rest was darkness. She thanked me but disappeared in her own anyways. I ended up going back home to my angry father. I calmed him with the thought of ice cream, we went next door which was now a giant ice cream parlor in the attic. The machines wouldn’t stop pouring everything in them out but it was delicious. My dad kept apologizing to the owners. On the ground floor in the yard next to us, my old high school bullies were being interviewed by Oprah for their successful lives. I told my dad they’ll always be rotten inside anyways. We got in his truck and drove around, trying to clean out his space and celebrate suddenly having money (maybe we made bank on the ice cream; who knows?) We wanted to keep everything for the family, so I asked him if we should enlist the help of my black sheep of the family cousin. (She wronged me too.)To my shock, he actually agreed. We called her and she drove with us, running to the bank, helping us go through storage, stealing apple electronics. I noticed any time I touched her, and from there anywhere she went, she left a wet golden trail of sparkles behind her. I thought my dad would be angry. We needed more help. I called my other co worker I’ve been avoiding irl due to his sexist comments. He agreed but he had to finish riding bikes with his friends first. We want back to my dads house to go through everything, I ran out to the car and met a little girl who was excited to meet me and wanted to show me her dance moves, I watched and cheered her own but she fell into a river under a destroyed bridge, we used a big robe to fish her out and I found a big bin full of dolls and under them photos, documents, and papers that would show me memories of them happening. Mainly lots of dirty photos, but on one I saw the autopsy of a girl who was raped and left to die at a party. Her body rotted for several days before she was found, covered in black gook that took the form of hair at some ends in twisted curly hooks. The autopsy was done by some medieval third party and not the cops. They took apart her body and placed it back together again on a giant bloody machinery, it somehow kept her more preserved for the case. It was gross and I watched one of their workers escape. I drove and met one of the dead girl’s old friends. About to celebrate her birthday with another big party years later. As she picked up her dress from the dry cleaners, she realized it was the same dress her friend wore when she died at that party; she wept and didn’t want to take it. I convinced her to do it anyways.