My Fear

At the fifth ave, I stand motionless in the middle of the stage, desperately hoping that any second I will recognize the music playing and remember the dance that goes with it. I know I have been going to class for at least a few months, but I can't put together any choreography, and when I move my body doesn't remember either.

Backstage I watch a horde of tiny children dressed in matching adidas sweatsuits do some rather impressive ballet. Their parents soon join them onstage and dance with them, just barely holding hands because the children are so small. I start crying and am embarassed when Sarah laughs at me.

Now I am on stage, as a part of the Company. We are about to perform the Sting, but first we must exchange gifts. Sarah starts by announcing her gift to Laura, then Laura announces her gift to Amanda, then Amanda presents me with tickets to all of the upcoming buffets. I am silent for a while, and finally announce to the waiting audience, "and I have nothing to give, because I didn't know". Everyone acts embarrassed, and I feel ashamed

My Houses

My parents are on vacation, and the babysitter has plotted to let some burglars into our house, who will kidnap me and my twin brother. I hear her talking to the men as she lets them into the house, so I run upstairs to hide while my brother runs to the basement. I think they capture him, but I climb out of the upstairs window and run though my neighbor's backward in my pink nightgown. I ring their doorbell frantically, but the men pull up in the driveway. I sprint across the street to my other neighbor's house, yelling, hoping someone in the neighborhood will hear me. As I run up to the door a man opens it and I run inside. With a chill, I realize the man is not my neighbor, but a cohort of the crooks.

I crouch in the my neighbor's kitchen, which is now much older with a wood stove and dirty pink linoleum floors. I know it is useless hiding here.

My parents hug me and as we walk back to (not) our house. They press the garage door opener and the walls roll up, revealing a gigantic well-stocked beverage refrigerator, like the kind in the grocery store where the shelves are tilted so the bottles slide forward. My sister lounges on top of the bottles on the top shelf, a little cramped under the roof of the machine. She welcomes me back and casually asks if I am going to stay away for a while this time. I hadn't thought of that, but now I remember that sometimes after an Ordeal, children will stay away from home for a while, having earned a vacation. This sounds like an excellent idea to me, so I climb up into the refrigerator, the heels of my striped Fluevogs slipping on the plastic bottle caps, wedge myself underneath a ceiling beam and into the other side of the refrigerator, and slide down and out for the house.

Kathryn and I drive along a freeway towards Canada. We approach a bridge spanning a ravine, and somehow get in the wrong lane so that we hurtle at a rapid speed down a small river in the center of the bridge, and down into a tunnel in the face of the cliff.

Somehow we survive, and pull up in the line to cross the border. The wait is going to be a long time, so we decide to get out the car and use the bathroom and a Chuck E. Cheese/cruise ship we can see on the a nearby forested hill, but I think it might be in Canada, and I worry that we won't be allowed back to the car without our birth certificates. Kathryn isn't concerned, so we continue on.
There are more people with us now, like Anna, Kellen, and Lindy, and as I wait for them outside of the bathroom, I critique the wall in front of me that I see as somehow more generic than any other wall I have seen. It is coated in plastic, and has perforated outlines where one might punch out an extra doorway of needed. I scoff at the Chuck E. Cheese/cruise line for only having used one of the five possible doorways.

We go back to the car, which is now a school bus that we live in. Somehow it is turned around facing the other direction, but everyone else is convinced that Canada is that way anyway.

Man, I am a terrible host

Kory takes our class on a field trip to show us the three "principles of dance":

Number one is a fake scepter placed on a velour cushion. I lead the group up to the porch of the cabin to look at the scepter, but everyone crowds behind me so I pass by quickly.

Number two is one of those poles you slide down on a big toy, with a curved top. When I approach I give Kory a skeptical look, and he sighs and says, "Envision a flagpole!" So it's a curved flagpole... I kind of get it.

Number three is a station wagon on a platform perched on top of a large pole. This one I just don't get. When we look questioningly at Kory he uses a remote control to tilt the station wagon; something spills out. We tell him to stop, the car is about to fall off. He tilts it again, and several small objects spill out and clatter to the ground like pop cans. The car slowly topples off, and we all run and take cover in great fear of the small objects inside the car (beetles?). I hide in the big toy for an unnecessarily long time. When I come out my mom is frosting cookies on the porch of the cabin. I help for a while, frosting some bundt cake from a paper sack filled with blue frosting.

I walk around the corner of the cabin to find myself on the playground at Shorewood. Kyra, some other familiar friends, and I take turns on the slide. As we slide, I ask Kyra questions about her upcoming surgery. She is optimistic.

I have some assignment that I'm late finishing for school, so I decide to go early to work on it. I walk down the Burke-Gilman trail and end up on Lake Union under I-5. Alex is there, and I stop to talk to him, and then I continue on, now wading through the water. When I pass under the University Bridge and arrive at my my desired destination, and start to climb up the bank to get out of the water. Too late, I notice the muddy structures around me moving- they are trolls! No one ever told me there were University trolls! They seem to jsut be waking up from a nap, so I hope that if I climb quickly they won't notice me. Then my shoe gets stuck in a hole in the wall, and when I turn I see another troll climbing out of the water after me, a dead fish in its mouth. I consider screaming, but decide against it.

On land I find my way to a designated study area, which is a small patch of grass next to the Burke-Gilman where about nine people already lay in a grid formation. When I get there I feel sleepy, so the natural thing to do is lay down. I wedge myself in an empty slot and arrange my stacks of books around me. Chris, a guy from Solstice who always orders "short americans" is there, telling a friend that he is in my French class as well as in another girl's senior seminar. This is not true, and it frustrates me, so I leave.

Back in my apartment, I am just waking up from a nap, when I become aware of a giant plasm television on the wall next to my bed. My eyes are closed, but I can see the colors from it on the insides of my eyelids. I can also hear that my mom and another family member or two are in the room. Listening to the program, it is a news interview. I hear "University of Washington Track", "New Zealand", and "Vinh". I realize they are about to interview my friend from my tea class, and I roll over and try to open my eyes to see the TV, saying groggily, "Hey, it's my track star! That's my friend!", which comes out as an incomprehensible mumble.
My eyes will not open. I focus all my energy on opening my eyes, but all that happens is I can see some very blurry outlines. Urgently I pry my eyelids open with my fingers, but I still cannot see. I let go and my eyes fall shut. Feeling as though I am on drugs, I sit up with difficulty in front of the mirror and try to open my eyes again. I suspect that the lids are actually opening, but my vision does not work.

Later, as I walk down the path to Shorewood Beach with a number of people I tell them about the incident over and over again.


Then Courtney and Kris had sex. This was not surprising to me, but Andrea was really concerned about it, especially that Beth would find out, so she devised a complex plan to drug all of our friends and somehow hypnotize them to forget about it. She invited all of the Academy 4.0s over to my house and prepared several dips that would cause everyone to fall asleep. There were also small, crescent-shaped pieces of sheet metal that she fed to the guests after they fell alseep for some reason.
The problem was that everyone arrived at different times, so we had to move the party out onto the patio, and then Megan Su wanted to make her own guacamole, and Andrea almost flipped out. I tried to pull her aside and tell her that maybe this wasn't worth it, and ask what the pieces of sheet metal were for, because they seemed really dangerous for someone to be consuming. Andrea didn't pay attention and told me to go feed more dip to the sleeping peole upstairs while she helped Megan make a new dip.

Don't Think Too Much

The beginning of a new semester. I have been placed in a drama class packed with stupid people, taught by (God help us) Mr. Bennet. Fed up with his inneffective teaching, I spy a blue mat that is slanted to provide a very nice slide. I crawl towards it, finding that the floor is slanted in tiers, like a very steep ramp, or an auditorium. I have difficulty making my way up it, elbowing people aside. They begin to follow me, seeing that the slide looks like fun.
Justin Prentice pokes his head out of a side door. He beckons to me, knowing that I want to get out of this place, away from these lemmings. I let them all pass me, then slip through the door.
It is an attic-like room. It is dusty and crowded with the sort of things people can't bear to give away, but can no longer keep in their living space. A rocking horse, faded photographs, old linens. Justin, Cynthia and I gather ourselves for a few minutes, then decide to slip out the window and away.
The window is narrow, but I slip out sideways and crouch unsteadily on the roof. Below is a guard, meant to keep the students confined. I bearwalk along the slanted roof to the opposite end, where the guard can no longer see me. I lower myself from the gutter, past a kitchen window, where I can hear the cooks chatting busily, and onto the ground. Sneaking over green grass and gravel roads, I head up the mountain.

Having found what I needed on top of the mountain, I fashion a bobsled out of a garbage can and slide back down, shooting past the camp where I was held captive (I hope Justin and Cynthia made it out) and into the forest.

I find myself in a sort of desert-designed cluster of bulidings, all concrete and whitewashed. Someone leads tours of the complex while the sun sets over a wasteland. We see the piping laid for an external shower system, or perhaps a watery playground. It looks like fun.
We enter a testing building, the inside of which is dusyy and dim. The decor is primitive - a dirt floor, crude wooden counters and shelves. Here, a myriad of rats are held in small cages. I was not there long, as I found it extremely cruel, but I remember that one very large and vicious white rat was put in a cage with a number of smaller, brown rats. It killed many of them, while sparing a choice few.

I head for the exit of the compound in disgust. A moon has risen in a dusky sky. The buildings are still lit with a rosy glow from the west. As I walk past the open door of a classroom, the professor calls me in. He says, "Miss, maybe you can help us solve these questions." I hesitate, as the symbols on the board mean absolutely nothing to me. But he seems adamant, so I seat myself, all thirty eyes of the class on me.
I set to work on the first problem, recognizing a few concepts from calculus, but soon I am stumped. He writes the second question on the board:

"Am I afraid of Industrialism? Or am I afraid of Priests?"

Priests came before industrialism, so obviously one is more scared of them. But that makes no sense.

I give up, confused and humiliated. I am not their calculus saviour. In the back of the class, I seat myself to the brother of an old friend of mine. He is now fat, smelly and creepy. He asks me invasive questions, I make my excuses and leave hurriedly.

I'm magical!

It is world history AP and I'm in Ms. Oglesby's class once again with some of my new college peers. Class begins with a queue, a strange experience for a desk loving creature. We are instructed to focus our energies at The Stone. I am very short so it takes me a while to see what The Stone appears to be. It is a light blue fleck of mineral, and occasionally when a student approaches it emits a pulse of a more intense blue. The students producing such reactions were awarded oohs and ahhs by both classmates and teacher alike. Finally it is my turn and I really have no idea what it is I'm doing, but it appears very mystical so I begin to think "mystically." I suppose it worked because when I opened my eyes the classroom was in awe and the stone was emitting the most pure blue ever conceived of in that shaky construct "reality."

Ms. Oglesby ushers me out of the class and tells me to come back later that night. When I do come back, she takes me down to the basement, which curiously isn't a basement, it's another floor filled with classrooms. Inside an empty classroom there is a curious group of people, appearing quite random. I see my friend Chris from Existentialism 270, apparently he produced a reaction in the stone too, but I'm sure it was nothing like mine. The Stone we were shown in class was but a fragment of an even larger, more powerful stone, towards which we were now to line up in a spiral and individually focus our energies. The Bigger Stone is now palm sized. The line begins and I am at the end. Suddenly The Bigger Stone morphs into a pyramid, it is about my height, with a polar bear head for the top triangular cap. This head glows bright blue when students approach. Chris goes to focus his energies, but instead something goes wrong and he ends up hugging the pyramid and yelling, "It's mine! It's mine!" The adults take him away and I head forward. I focus my energies (still not knowing what this means exactly) towards the stone, and suddenly I am at once grounded - feeling as if light and blueness and electricity are flowing through my body, and floating high above the earth - through the air over a city, at times like Spokane and at times like Las Vegas.

Finding spirit animals in the funhouse

In a seaside fort, all campsters were expected to travel trails with three peanuts and a needle as a guide, and kill, cook, and eat small forest animals for dinner and most importantly "bond" as camp units. I did not agree with this process and so I escaped, flying into the trees as would a squirrell, except I wasn't a squirrell, I was a Native American girl, and I soon found myself on a deck, watching a Native American dance. An old woman was doing a whirlwind of a dance with motes of light were following her skirts. Apparently she was to choose someone to train, and she was looking directly at me. There was a crowd of children around her, hoping to be chosen, but she dissappeared with the statement, "you must follow me first." I spent a lot of time exploring the caves and shores near the sea, sometimes I saw her in front of me, smiling.

My father and a beautiful red dog appeared on the beach. This dog was the most friendly creature I have ever met in a dream world, and while I was playing with the dog, the setting changed. The dog and I are in a run down building which will not let us out. We are happy enough with the haunted place and we proceed to play around with its ever-moving doors.

Imagination

A fraternity was giving away free pizza on the 15th. I had already had a slice of cheese, so I went back for a second: cinnamon pecan.

I found Kris waiting at a bus stop, and he asked me to explain things, so I started talking. The 74 came and stopped; I wondered if he was going to get on. Then I figured he must have been waiting for the 71, 72, or 73, but he was standing on the wrong side of the street. Finally we got on the 74 and it turned around and took us over the University Bridge.

Then we were walking along a sort of cement tunnel on the east edge of Lake Union. It was very narrow, so Kris walked in front of me. The right side was open to the lake, which was actually just a vast blue expanse of water, and part of the path was submerged, so that every step I took with my right foot made a gentle splash. I talked the whole way trying to sort out a confusing series of events, and Kris just kept walking until we suddenly reached a graffitied wall. He stopped to suddenly that I nearly stepped off the path into the water, but when I looked down the water churned viciously, and it was clear enough that I could tell there was no bottom.

In the Burien Fred Meyer, my mom and I shop for food for our vacation. There are stacks of chocolate cake, and we try to pick out the best one for my dad's birthday.

I stand with Rebecca and Evan in a neutrally carpeted lobby, waiting for the schedule for the undergraduate research symposium to be posted. Rebecca and Evan move to the other side to see if a group of Acads know where to go, and meanwhile, a suited man with a nametag and radio comes up to me and ushers me through the nearest set of double doors and into a small auditorium, insisting that there is no late seating.
Annoyed that I might be missing other good presentations I sit on the left side, near the front. The lights dim and a curly-haired girl stands at a podium on the right side of the stage as a screen lowers behind her. The film starts, and all I know from the program is that her research had to do with psychological/emotional reactions to music. For about two minutes it plays a rapid series of film clips accompanied by music. I don't remember what they contained, but I remember mainly blue, some green and white, and the charge I felt from the music. I think I at one point I was laughing and crying for a reason I couldn't fathom. The film ends and the girl says, "Thank you". Everyone waits for her to say more about her results and conclusion, and finally the symposium official comes up and whispers to her, but she shakes her head and leaves the stage.

There is a pause while the next student sets up, and I turn around and see Evan and Rebecca sitting behind me. I ask if they felt the same thing, but lights start to dim. The next presentation is by a friendly Indian guy, on "Imagination". His film starts with a scene in a cobblestone alleyway with high stone walls on either side, and it quickly envelops me.
I am a young boy, sent by his guardians to start at a school on this street. I walk up to the gate of the correct address and pause. I know this is a test when I look to my right down the alley, and past a certain archway the scene shimmers and changes to a different street. I'm not scared, and I look through the gate and ring the bell. The scene past the gate shimmers and changes, and a wizard-like man appears about two feet in front of me. We stare at each other for a while, and finally he lets me in. Other boys in orange robes peer suspiciously out the the barred windows, and one sets a rosebush on fire right next to me.
The wizard leads me through a cold stone hallway, and up and wide, orange-lit winding staircase with very tiny steps. When we reach the top the stair continue, only tilted so that it formed a corrugated horizontal plane. (Like this: /\/\/\/\/\/\). I try to walk on it, but the wizard open a door that I already passed and motions me through.

At this point I recount everything that happened in my dream previous to meeting Kris, including the events I tried explaining to him, (none of which I remember now). Then I start over from the beginning of the "Imagination" sequence, narrating it myself, while trying to follow along as best I can in my actions.

"He approached the impressive stone building..." (I turn to the right and read the plaque in the doorway of the building.)
"...No, these architects didn't mark the date of construction of the building..."
(There is a long list of roman numerals on the plaque)
"They marked the time of the accident... when the workers drowned... to harness the power of water in the walls of the school..." (It's getting harder to make sense of my narration, and finally I figure out that I'm supposed to be contemplating the wizard school across the street. I let myself in the gate, hoping I won't have enough time to make up more nonsense narration, and enter the building. I realize as a walk though rooms that change that I am waking up, and it's harder for my conscious mind to make up scenarios that will be as interesting for my active dream self as my unconscious mind could.
The thing I remember as I contemplated this was standing in a room where one wall was made of tall, sharp-edged irregular stone pillars spaced about six inches apart. A violent blue light shone through the gaps, but there was a rock garden on the other side.
I finally figured out that this was the Indian guy's test of Imagination.

Last night work was stressful

There is a line out the door at Solstice and some small bitchy woman gives very specific, nonsensical instructions for her drink. She ends up coming behind the counter, and after a few minutes of bitching, she tamps some cinnamon and cocoa in with the espresso, and instructs me to steam more cinnamon in the milk.
Meanwhile, Emily is calling out a new order every ten seconds, and I get confused and pull the shots into a mug of water, and then steam the water. I realize my mistake and try to find the woman to remake her shots, but give up and move on to the next drink. I make more mistakes, and then can't remember how the espresso machine works.

Behind-the-Scenes at Disneyland

I leave my mother in the café-urbanoutfitters, because her coffee is taking too long. Exiting through the sliding doors, I peruse the touristy street for other food options. Here is a hot dog and burrito stand. Across the street is a ritzy bistro with nothing under $13. On the corner I spy a lobster house, advertising their fantastic milkshakes.
None of these appeal to me, so I continue on, towards the museum. I pass though the backyards of several small houses, an apartment complex, and a church. I descend some stairs to an observatory. Inside, there are some plaques and some looking-glasses, but everything costs money to see. I exit again.
Going back up the stairs, I meet my mother and sister. We move onto a concrete platform to the water's edge. I climb the edge and stare out to sea, as do many other people. The ocean churns violently, crashing around the spiky rocks to splash those of us on the edge. I am tempted to dive into the water, but it is a diseased green-brown, and I know I will be dashed to pieces on the rocks.
Slightly out from shore, columns of rock rise from the sea, reminding me of the Statue of Liberty's crown, or the Rudolph movie's set. They form a nearly impenetrable wall between us and the open ocean, but beyond them I catch a short glimpse of a hugegreen, half-submerged statue of a woman. This is the spot that is so famous in this town, but I am pushed from the ledge before I can fully appreciate its beauty.

Later, we enter a bustling metropolis. Trying to reach the main shopping center, we find ourselves in a monstrous and empty Nordstrom. They are still working on taking down their christmas decorations. The building is very elegant, composed of high-arched ceilings, marble floors and pillars. We tramp down an echoing hallway to a room with a dark, wooden stage. Security here thinks we are coming to audition, and they press-gang us into a line of drama members. We escape through a dusty, dark white room, and hightail it back to where we parked our car. We speed onto the highway and try to figure out the best way around the mountain and home again.

Not Birds

An unknown teacher shows us diagrams of the different ways bees reproduce. The girls sit attentively in the dim light, while the boys giggle to themselves as they rip the legs off of spicy ants.

Seemingly Mundane

I park the car in front of a large trailer next to a strange building at night. I follow a stream of people into the building.

The band is taking part in a district-wide concert, in which all the high-school bands will play the same song. We are setting up our instruments in the practice room as the streetlights shine in through the tall and narrow windows. Mr. Fosberg, being his normal crotchety self, tells us we're all sitting in the wrong places. He moves the horn section to sit behind him, facing the rest of the band. We are joined by Bertha, a lower band member, and Philip Van Wyk. I try to tell him that he should be in the clarinet section, but he won't listen to me. Bertha pulls up a chair between Matt and Sarah, and I am insulted because with the addition of Philip it makes me look like fifth chair. I want to tell her to go sit on the other side of Cindy, but decide to let her enjoy her moments in our prestigious section, as it's likely to be the only chance she'll get.

Foz tells me and a few other people to go ask the organizer of the event when she wants us onstage. I exit through a side door, which opens onto the backstage area. I am dwarfed by the monstrous set pieces and heavy hanging curtains.

I approach a short, squat woman with a commanding voice. She tells me that before she can answer my question, I have to go tell the people in the booth that they missed Daylight Savings Time and they should turn their clock back an hour. We need the extra time to finish setting up.

I am led to the booth through a series of metal hallways by a black-clad tech. A small child trails after us. The tech motions me through a door into a cavern-like area behind the auditorium and underneath the booth. The child is afraid and latches onto my leg. As we proceed over paths of metal grating, I sense movement from the side. Pastor Ann (who is almost legally blind) stands and says "It's nice that Kathryn was able to bring her sister along." The child clearly is not my sister, but I decide to not say anything, because Ann lives in this cave and is therefore blind. We continue.

The tech leaves us at a playground to wait for the people in the booth to see us, where we are joined by several more small children (my cousins), Jenny, and a young man (who auditioned after me on Friday). It suddenly becomes imperative that we keep the infant entertained, because if she cries then the entire performance, happening on the other side of the wall, is ruined. To do this, we scale the wooden jungle gym and hand the baby from one person to another, higher one higher than the last. We reach the top, and the construction grows more to accommodate our efforts. The growth is, however, much too sparse, and we cannot climb any higher. We panic to find a way to keep the child quiet, but before we can solve the problem, the concert is over. We collapse to the ground in relief. Keeping an infant quiet is harder than it looks.


A separate dream, but not, we are two warring factions. I have amassed an army of real and imaginary animals to combat the Kingdom of Ice. We enter the practice room where Mr. Fosberg stood not long ago, and the opposing sides bristle at each other as I try frantically to make them listen to me. My side will be decimated, though, because it appears that our King and Queen have been drugged. The Ice King laughs as we rush to their sides. A mountain lion with a large sled tied to its back tries to haul them out of harms way, but a mountain lion is not designed to pull things, and our woozy and effervescent rulers giggle as they are towed awkwardly out the door. We are dismayed.

Zombies!

I ride my bike up a giant spiral ramp in the mall-like east end of the Art building. I stop near the top, where some of my future classmates stop at an espresso stand. As I stand there the bike almost rolls off the edge of the ramp, as it has no guardrail, but I keep my balance and ride forward. I have difficulty turning the pedals over to the proper side, because it hurts to kick them in bare feet.

Later, I have to get out of the Art building because zombies have started invading. The basement has partially collapsed and become a cramped, uneven tunnel. I run into Eric from Solstice and point him in the direction of the exit, but I continue deeper into the depths of the building. For some reason I have to get back to the east end, although I know there are many zombies there. I take the elevator to the first floor and find someone I recognize. Together we push open the colossal wooden doors to the Church that has taken the place of the library. A zombie plays the organ at the opposite end of the hall, and many others wander about hissing dumbly.

Outside in the Quad the sun sets as I walk along the path, surrounded by people I should know. They are all dressed in black to play capture the flag, and run about to tag the zombies surrounding us. I try to tell them how stupid this is, and not to look them in the eyes, but as I watch Gracie come face-to-face with a zombie, and in the dusk her eyes begin to glow red out of a darkened face. In my peripheral vision I see more red dots start to glow in the darnkness. I go back the way I came, realizing I any attempt to save another of my friends would be useless. I take a right by the Music building, but stop near a blooming cherry tree as several of my shadowy, red-eyed friends surround me. I climb into the tree and try to leap off of one of the branches and take off flying in mid-air, but apparently my flying capabilities are limited to slowly floating upward from an immobile position on the ground. I quickly get up and face the crowd with diverted eyes, but this time in my peripheral vision they brighten. I look up and can distinguish the faces of Josh Morris, Brian Le, and others. I thought it was already night, but when I look at the sky I see there was just a cloudy sunset, and a little bit of day is still left, but the threadbare blanket of clouds is about to cover the horizon again. I run.

I come to a deserted highrise building in the center of town with my friend. There is no sign of life, human or zombie, just many, many pigeons. We decide the highrise is the safest place to stay because zombies can't climb stairs (or something), and all of the panic-crazed humans fled long ago. We decide to climb up the outside of the building just to be safe.

Quietly we climb past ten or more of the paritally destroyed first stories, deciding we need to get higher to feel safe. We decide the next one would be acceptable, but as we haul ourselves up to the balcony railing we hear voices. We cling to the egde and carefully peer over. There are two giant, fluffy, talking cats living in the apartment. The grey one sits in a patio chair reading a newspaper and sipping coffee. The orange one (the wife) asks her husband if he would like anymore lemonade to finish his breakfast. She walks out of the kitchen (upright), holding a pitcher of lemonade.
In a whisper I tell my shocked friend that when all of the humans left town or turned into zombies the cats must have taken over, because zombies don't care about cats. Without the repression and all of the hormones from eating human food they must have grown into more human-like creatures and taken over our lives. While they might be able to protect us, I reason that they are probably more likely to kill us to prevent us from attracting the destructive zombies, and because of their longheld hatred for the opressive masters.

Carefully, we climb upward, past three more stories of cat families until we reach the very top, deserted floor. We will have to be quiet, but there is enough food to sustain us for a little while. Just there is a massive crashing as the building collapses below us. Only our apartment survives destruction, and now sits on top of a giant pile of rubble. I think of all the dead giant cats underneath us. I don't have long to think as the door to the balcony crashes open and a horde of wild-eyed men and women rush across a bridge of rubble into the apartment. The man in front, dressed in a voilently colorful floral shit has his hands outstretched to strangle me.