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Elyse Carnagie
Dreams


It was night for the whole dream. We were at some kind of camp at first, on the ocean or a really big lake. I was with two non-specific friends, and my mom popped in whenever we went indoors. We had Hugo (my dog)’s whole litter, but for some reason I was only responsible for him, and other people were responsible for the rest. We took them swimming and they were in the water a long time. Hugo gets tired with waves, so I took him out. Just then something ate one of the dogs in eh water. I felt as though I knew what it was once, but I didn’t anymore. As you can imagine, this caused quite a panic. We had to run and run. Some time in all of this I remember describing the scene to my mom. She said, “It was sad, but that is the way it is.” Then we were in this high school auditorium, and the dogs were still with us; we each held our puppy. There were a few more friends and puppies now. All the puppies looked like Gretta, my roommate’s dog instead on looking like Hugo. Even Hugo was a puppy from Gretta’s litter, but I still knew it was Hugo. We had to get away from something terrifying, maybe the lake monster. We were trying to move so fast everybody kept forgetting their puppies and having to go back and find them, but we were carrying them so that didn’t make much sense, and it was frustrating. We went up to the catwalks of this theater, and we had to hide the dogs as we went because if Mike the janitor saw them, it was all over. They also had to be kept quiet which was hard, and we were climbing a steep catwalk, which was hard. Just then, someone dropped one of the puppies. We had reached the part over the stage, and there was also a performance on stage I had not noticed before. This was too much, and I woke with a start.

I was at a camp, but when I walked around I found it was nothing like our camp, so it must have been a different camp. It was on the ocean, and it was beautiful. The water access was a steep, grassy drop-off down to the beach. For some reason there was a camp thing where older kids were allowed to have guns. They would sit all day pointing them at the water. I have no idea why. They would even rotate in an order, as though hoarding something, but there was nothing to guard. The rest of camp would sit around them watching them. Things would change all the time, big things. One day there was land out in the water. This seemed perfectly normal. A white horse was walking around, the kind with dark eyes, not an albino. When I was sitting near two boys, I hear one bet the other $10.95 he could shoot the horse, which was about 400 yards away. The other took the bet. I was talking to a younger camper and trying not to point out what was happening over his shoulder. Chris shot the horse just below the spine. Over the next few hours the horse lost more and more movement. I was really mad so I started ignoring the boys, only looking at them to call them terrible things. I was so angry. I got Neosporin and broccoli and lots o water to take to the horse. I don’t know why my sister and brother-in-law were sitting on a couch reading by the light of running tap water. But to fill the water bottle, I had to put it right on my brother-in-law’s face, and my sister got mad. I ignored her. By the time I got to the beach the horse was lying on its side and looked bad. I went to it and called the boys several more bad names that made the younger campers go “Ohhhhh,”


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