Will Sellari (cutoffhisarm) wrote,
Will Sellari
cutoffhisarm

Dream from Monday morning

The dream started with me in high school. I was somewhere around 17, the year however was in the early 80s. We were in homeroom I believe, and Solange and I were in the same class. In the dream since we were young she was just my girlfriend. The room and school reminded me of my elementary school, lots of painted cinder blocks and ceramic bricks; there were even the same white porcelain water fountains in the hallway. The high school was in either New York or Philadelphia, looking back on the scenery around the school it could have been any big city along the east coast, but the place we were at was a tall building surrounded by other talk buildings.  As the morning light crept in through the windows of our classroom and I remember hearing a siren go off.

Everyone in the classroom was relatively sure it was a drill, although we were at war with the USSR. Our teacher who happened to be Sam McMurray, told us to start the drill and get out into the hall. The school was surprisingly empty, unsure where to go we paced around a second or two. Solange went to check one way down the hall and I went to check the other. I made my way into the office that was empty also, save one or two other students walking around confused as well. Sam McMurray came out and seeing Solange towards one end of the hall began to scream at her...

"What are you some kind of FUCKING idiot?!?"

Solange looking very upset joined the rest of the class who was spilling out into the hall now after hearing Mr. McMurray screaming. The violent teenager I was stormed over to Sam and spun him around, Solange standing behind me.

"If you ever talk to her that way again, I'm going to fuck you up."

Sam just stared at me blankly and a bit frightened.

"Do you understand me? I will fuck you up."

It seems odd to me now that those were my choice of words but I think in the moment since he said fuck I just went with it.

"You can't say shit can you? Because you fucked up. You can't say shit to me because you're fucked if I say anything."

At this point the sirens had stopped. I was really upset and a little embarrassed I acted that way in front of Solange so I walked off. I headed down the stairs to the entrance of the school; there was a little security station there, a check in point with a bunch of monitors. The security guard was Michael Jackson, a young Jackson though, one who never had anything to do with music. Just a 20 something year old black kid in a green sweater, sadly watching monitors. I remember talking to him for a minute and in that weird dream knowledge I knew in this world he wasn't famous, nor did he ever sing in public, and that made him feel that there was something missing from his life.There as also a area on his station where he would play records over the intercom sometimes.

I talked to him briefly, although, I can't remember what it was about. During our conversation the sirens began to go off again. I had had enough of school that day so began to leave.

As I exited the building I remember looking overhead at the morning sky between the narrow streets. I saw missile trails through air and the sound of approaching jets.

Then I woke up.
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