Dream Journal Ultimate
Date: 10/21/2019
By Imetaphor
I'm visiting my old 6th grade floor. I feel excited and nostalgic as I rush to use the old bathroom. I get there ahead of my friends so I choose my old favorite urinal. (Probably a false memory because the bathrooms weren't on that floor. Lol) I'm in the science room helping someone make chicken, peas, and rice while they're gone. It could easily and more quickly be a one-pot meal, but the recipe calls for draining and cooking things separately, and I want to follow it so it turns out like they like. Under a cabinet I find a bunch of my old kitchen utensils, miscellany, and a backpack full of t-shirts and sweatshirts that hadn't been touched since 6th grade (17 years ago). I'm outside looking at the old middle school and the adjoining newly built middle school. The main chamber looks very modern, with glass and pillars and a dome like the Capitol Building and the Temple of Heaven. There are bright flashes inside and we realize the new middle school is on fire. Bright flames are erupting from it. It spreads so quickly and violently that there's no hope of saving it and it's too dangerous to go inside - even into the adjoining buildings. A flamey explosion opens the doors. The middle school children start walking out of the burning school. Most are not on fire. Some of them have patches of bright flame on them, but some are oblivious so we yell at them. Most know to lay/roll on the ground to smother it. One kid is fully engulfed in flame and is running and freaking out. I'm part of a criminal investigation. Somehow my partner and I are invisible and unexpectedly two notorious suspects come into the room and sit down around us to have a potentially incriminating convo. I try to be silent but I make a click with my throat when I swallow. There are also fellow agents listening on hidden microphones and watching through a one-way mirror. My pizza delivery arrives. The girl says apologetically, "Sorry, we got your order wrong. Here you go." It's one and a half personal pizzas with toppings I didn't want. "Okay," I say, "but I don't have to pay for this, right? And you're bringing my real order, right?" "Um... I'm not sure," she answers. She's a pretty young brunette with a pizza delivery visor.