sometime in 1995 . . .
the Grateful Dead
I was standing in a small bathroom reading a book over the sink. the book was about a group of people called the "Grateful Dead." they were men dressed in black, some with black facial hair. I finished a chapter and went to leave the room, but the door wouldn't open. an image of one of the Grateful Dead appeared in my mind, and I realized that they were evil. I didn't want to look into their eyes, even just in my mind. I had to read another chapter before I could leave the room. as I continued reading, a feeling of dread came over me. some kind of terrible, irreversible evil was taking place.
when I was able to leave, I walked down a street toward my house. storm clouds appeared and rained on me. the rain seemed to be following me as I walked, and I looked up to see the clouds slowly forming into a giant dark spiral. a powerful evil was trying to enter my mind, and I repelled it. when I got home, I realized that i had to be at work at Taco Bell soon. A lot of people were in the house, and the house itself was huge. parts of it resembled parts of a church, but much darker. in the kitchen, people were talking. I asked them whether they had ever had experiences like mine with the book and the clouds. I described other strange things had been happening to me lately, as well.
from the kitchen I could see through a square hole in the wall into a large, sunken living room. [...] was sitting on the floor in the middle of the room. I walked in and saw a rabbit cage containing a hamster, a rabbit, and possibly a few cats. they were all climbing the cage walls, fighting over some food on the top of the cage. [...] suddenly started hissing like a cat and moving spasmodically. I ran to the kitchen and said "I think [...]'s got a problem." no one acknowledged me, so I repeated it loudly. they shook their heads and walked toward the living room, muttering things like, "oh, not again." Just then, [...] calmly walked in. a strong image of the Grateful Dead came to my mind as everyone else stopped and silently looked at [...]. she began saying something, but then reverted to her hissing and attempted to claw people with her black fingernails.
later, I was finally getting ready for work. I was about an hour and a half late, and worried that I'd get written up. I had been ready for a while, but my mom, who was driving me there, had been on the phone for a long time. I told her that I could be written up, and she said not only that, I'd probably be fired. it had been my manager on the phone, who told her that I had a very low grade at work. I hadn't known that we had grades. I pictured Taco Bell, which looked normal but it was dark inside and everyone was walking slowly with their heads lowered.
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