Dreaming in Digital

I was in a dark world. At first, I was in a modern little village where business men and women met at a little coffee shop, but as I travelled down a path leading to a heavily darkened road, I came across an old house once as brightly used as a banquet hall. I went through rooms, eliminating the ghostly haunted dangers until finally I reached the last three rooms. They were larger than the rest, or there was more than one room to pass. Either way, I had difficulty eliminating the dead alone. I came across two rooms in a basement. It was locked away for a long time that heavy dust and cobwebs covered the floor and furniture. There was a woman in her early twenties studying there, so I talked to her about the mystery of the room. She told me about the telephone near her and I had to call a certain number to defeat the monsters in the room. It was an old, black, corded phone. I picked up the receiver and began to dial (I don't remember where I got the number I was calling from) when two ghasty, dusty monsters started moving into the room. They resembled mummies without the wrapped linen, and when I kicked one in the groin to buy myself more time, the monster didn't flinch. With the receiver still in hand, I ran towards the door, but the cord disconnected from the distance I ran, I threw it on the orange, dust-faded couch and ran upstairs into the light. The tall, clear windows greeted my face with sunlight. It seemed everytime I cleared a room, the house became cleaner and lively. I ran into the main banquet hall where a familiar woman was seated during a wedding. When she saw me, she stood and asked about my situation. I looked behind me to find the dead gone and told her I needed a phone, which she cheerily pointed me to one behind her. I took it and called, knowing the number belonged to a high classed man and perhaps a mafia loan shark. The other line sounded different from downstairs, and I came to the conclusion that I had to make the call only from that horrid room. I felt my pit of fear return remembering that now I had to reconnect the receiver to the phone then make the call again.

I was with Hugene and an acquaintance from archery club, who was also in my fashion/sewing class, and we were in a class together. We all graduated from the same university (that I went to) and sat around a rectangular, children's table over a large, orange rug. Surrounding us was a creme-coloured, tiled floor and white walls. A few other students our age sat sparse around us, and we had all just finish eating lunch and/or working on free-time crafts. I don't remember most of the conversations that happened, but I remember I brought up how I regretted going to this university and wish I went to another. Our acquaintance was tall, African-American and kind, and he shook his head disagreeing with me-- he enjoyed going to this school. Later on when he left, Hugene and were left in the room. I took a pink, Barbie blanket from a pile and snuggled down in an armchair ready or a nap. Hugene gasped, reprimanding me, thinking I didn't own it, but I told her that my aunt had left it with my family to donate to flood victims who needed soft sleeping gear. My mother had taken it because it was a good blanket. Not too seem like a bad guy, I lied to Hugene, telling her my mother exchanged the blanket for another blanket, and placed it in the pile.