I was attending a funeral in a church in a sketchy looking part of a town I was unfamiliar with. Continue reading “Dream Journal 1/6/19 | Bomb Squad”
My mother and I were on our way to my great-aunt’s funeral (she is still alive in real life). The funeral went by quickly, with people coming up to us and giving us their condolences, and hugging my mom, who was very close to her. My mom and I were talking about spending the week at my grandmother’s apartment with her (she is actually dead, so…) to make sure that she was okay, and I argued that there was no way that the three of us would survive a week in her one bedroom, efficiency-style apartment.
We went anyway. At my grandmother’s apartment, she informed us that we would have to share the love seat in the living room, or sleep on the floor, because there was nowhere else to sleep. My mom got angry and stormed out, and my grandmother sat in her chair by the living room window and lit up a cigarette. I walked out of the apartment and went to explore the building.
My grandmother’s building was exactly the same as it was in real life. She lived on the top floor of a six story apartment building, filled with mostly elderly people, or low-income families. The building was shaped like a “U”, with a courtyard in the center, which was mostly used for smoking. The hallways were as dark as I remember, and a bit gloomy, and I walked up and down the back stairwells, just like when I was a kid. On the floor below my grandmother’s, I stopped to watch a maintenance man unload pallet after pallet of colorful Room Essentials towels from Target, all unwrapped and stacked randomly, which made me cringe.
Blue yellow green yellow blue red pink pink yellow blue green white red…
Something like that.
I stood there and watched him for a while, before returning to my grandmother’s apartment. When I walked in, I found her lying on the living room floor, lifeless. I stood over her, just staring, until my mother came back. She saw her on the floor, and screamed. She started telling me to do something, and I just shrugged and told her to try CPR, but that I doubt it would work, as she was already blue-tinged and cold. She kept yelling at me to do something, so I picked up the phone and called 9-1-1. While I was on the phone with them, my mom left again.
I hung up the phone and walked to the fridge, looking for something to eat. It was filled with grapefruit halves, a half gallon of milk, and coffee creamer. Just like I remember. On her kitchen table was a large, brown paper bag, which was filled with various takeout containers. I opened the top one, which had two large, meaty sandwiches in it. There was a sticker on the container dated from almost a month prior. My mom walked back in just then, and I asked her if she thought the sandwiches were okay to eat, and she knocked the container out of my hands. We stared at each other for a while, then she left again, slamming the door behind her. I picked up the fallen sandwiches, and the brown bag, and placed it all in the kitchen sink.
That is all I remember before I woke up. I vaguely remember something about Jurassic Park, but I don’t know why.