A Very Bad Dream, Part II

...I felt helpless; there was nothing I could do.

This is the continuation of my bad dream.


We were ushered into a carpark, similar to the ones you see in malls. I'm not very clear about this part, but we were given some kind of receptacle that contained a little ball the size of a marble. The instructions stated that we shouldn't drop that little ball, or else we're "out." To make things more difficult, we should do this while we were on a motorcycle. I believe there's a time limit on how long we should be going around the carpark.

One of my other companions, a wild girl, drove the motorcycle so recklessly that she dropped the ball after a few rounds of the carpark. I didn't see what happened next, but I felt the fear of knowing that she was "taken out." My friend from the gunfire incident earlier was with me the whole time. Unfortunately, just as the time was about to run out, she let go of the little ball. It fell to the ground with a resounding clang that drove sharp spikes into my heart. She looked at me, worried, but I felt helpless; there was nothing I could do. I, on the other hand, survived that part. But still, the day of carnage wasn't over. There was still a level 3.

This time, I was led to a corridor that looked suspiciously like the one in Gonzaga in Ateneo. There were 3 rooms, and at the entrance of each room was a lady seated behind a desk. On the wall above each person was a sign. I forget the exact words in the sign, but the general aura I felt was that I'm going to be interviewed. I didn't proceed immediately to the interviewers. I walked past them and proceeded to the comfort room to attend to a call of nature. While walking past the rooms, I peeked inside one of them. I understood right away that these were the survivors of this little game.

Inside the comfort room, I dealt with my minor emergency. When I stepped out of the toilet, I saw James emerge. He was wearing his maroon long-sleeved shirt, tucked into his black pants. (James is my officemate in real life.) He asked me some questions, but I also forget which ones they were. In any case, I don't remember what happened after our conversation. I didn't see myself going through the interview process, I didn't see myself survive the game.

But apparently, despite my dream skipping this portion of the program, I survived. And Adam did too. The next scene found us in a coffeeshop with my Mama in tow. Adam and I were discussing what we felt during "that time," taking care not to mention any of the details to my mother. My mother was curious, nonetheless, but I felt it was safe not to disclose any of it to her. She might get very upset.

And... that's the end of my very bad dream. I didn't want to go back to sleep just as yet, because I don't want to recall the face of that bald man again, so I decided to blog about this first. Among all the levels I've been through in that dream game, the first part was easily the scariest, and easily the one that's bothering me enough for me not to go back to sleepyland again. Especially that bald man. *shivers*

I think I'm going to stop now. You all might think this is just silly, but it's not. Hay. It really distressed me. The terror felt so real, you see. I wonder what all of that meant. I'm sure someone could come up with an interpretation for it.