I’ve been on summer vacation for a week and still all I think about is school. It’s ridiculous really. They left us a lot of summer homework and when I say a lot, I mean…a lot. I have AP Language and AP History work to do, law work…too much.
Anyway, for this entire week all I’ve been dreaming about is school. Now it’s normal for me to be having dreams about school, but last night I had a nightmare. It was the weirdest, scariest, most bizarre nightmare ever. It was scary for me, but not to most people.
Well, I hated my History teacher…with a passion. She teaches AP History along with this other teacher and I hope that I get this other teacher rather than her again. So anyway…
The nightmare went like this:
It was already September and we had to go back to school. Now, the first sign that something was off was the fact that they usually mail us our schedules not hand them out on the first day. This time, they were giving it out. So I get my schedule and I find out…I have my History teacher again. However, I said to myself, maybe I can talk to my counselor and change it. I also have some other classes such a colorology…the study of color? I don’t know it’s taught by a teacher that doesn’t even exist and his name is Mr. P…something. It was weird. I find out that my best friend has this class with me too.
Yesterday, in reality we got out GPAs. My GPA dropped from a 4.0 to a 3.9 and I was upset about it especially because I was my middle school valedictorian and I was kind of hoping to be my high school’s but that’s out of the question because I go to this high school where people are getting GPAs higher than a 4.0 because of special class and such.
Anyway back to the dream. Apparently, colorology is a class that students use to gain extra credit on their GPA. But here’s the weird thing, everything has to do with color and if we write something, we have to write with colors or else we lose points. That was a weird class and not many people took it.
After colorology, I go to my locker (the same on as sophomore year apparently) and then I see the business teacher questioning these two freshmen (now sophomores). Now, these freshmen, they are always together. The funny thing is one of them looks like the business teacher. So the business teacher asked them what they have in this big blue bag. This blue bag was really big and then the business teacher looks in and there is a dead guy named Wade in there. I walk by and drop my laptop case (which didn’t look like the one I really have). The business teacher yells at me as oppose to the dead body kids. Meanwhile, I worried because I have dismembered toes and fingers in my laptop case…yeah weird.
Now, in my school, I have four Spanish teachers. One of them is going on maternity leave and I have never had her. Now, in my dream, there are these two juniors that I talk to and they are holding a banner that says “Poor Keith.” It’s tie dyed green and I walked up to them and asked the obvious question of who’s Keith. They said that Mrs. Spanish teacher’s baby was a stillborn. That…is…messed up. So now, I finally have to go to AP History with my…History teacher.
I go to the room, and apparently I was super late. It didn’t look like her room, it was dark and the walls were covered with wood. She was mad, but then I went to sit down in the little hut room.
So they were talking about the 1850s…way past where we are now in our lesson and they were talking about fishing and grants? What does one thing have to do with the other? So we continue talking and guess what? She’s not obnoxious and has the appeal of my ex-Spanish teacher (no relationship to the one whose baby “died”). However, I’m not paying attention because I know I’m going to switch teachers. I try telling her that I’m going out of her class and she’s acting all shocked. I mean, come on…no one in my school likes her.
However, it’s 4:30 and I need to go home. I apparently need to catch the ferry which is across this grey lake. However, I walk out the door and I’m home and my sisters are under the shower curtain, my dog by this toy piano and I try to call my dad, but he’s home already.
It was not pleasant, not by a long shot. I’ve had bad dreams with other teachers. For example, on Monday night I dreamt that my mother ran over my law teacher. A couple of months ago I dreamt that my ex-Spanish teacher (the one I like) died because she overdosed on pills. Yeah…I don’t have good dreams.
Away, you Demons of Nightmares!
July 2nd, 2009 at 10:26pm