When mum and dad when on holiday, mum didn’t come back. For weeks I hated my dad, blamed him for her refusal to return. But then one day she walked through the door as if nothing had happened.
Even my nan was there to be angry with her for abandoning us. Mum just shrugged her shoulders a lot and said she’d needed a break. To be fair she did look a lot better. But after that I blamed her.
I went back to Uni once I knew she was home and safe. There was this huge Halloween party, and I had gone all out on my costume. I was covered in sticky black spider webs, a purple banner with ‘Happy Halloween’ written on it, and a poofy black dress.
The party was mediocre. But then I’ve never really been a party person. I left early and began peeling the webs off of my skin. I stuck them round a signpost, then put the banner on top. The signpost began to glow like it had fairylights on it when there weren’t any. I stared at the sign for a while, but thought nothing of it. Kind of an, “oh that’s cool” moment.
I sat in my room and stared into space. There was a knock on my door. My flatmate walked in. She said, “can’t you hear that?” I listened. I heard the sound of a roaring fire and alarms not far from us.
“It sounds worse than last time,” she moaned. I sighed and nodded. I got up and started pushing all of my possessions through the window. Luckily we were in a ground floor flat this year.
People walking past my window looked at me in confusion. “Don’t you dare,” I warned them, and surprisingly they carried on without taking my stuff.
My room was completely empty by the time the fire claimed the building. But it didn’t have to be. My room, surprisingly, magically, remained unburned. Don’t ask me how, but the signpost I had absent-mindedly decorated on my way home, had been grateful for the sprucing up. It had loved its new outfit, and so given my home protection from the oncoming fire.
Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the omnipotent, magical signpost of Protection!
…My dreams aren’t usually this weird, are they? Even I admit this one’s odd…
(And I don’t know what it is about me and fire/explosions occurring in my halls of residence. This is the third dream I’ve had where it happens. I’m not an unconscious arsonist, really I’m not!)