Dream Anthology Pt. 1

In an apartment mother feeds me mushroom sprouts with black pepper. She says it'll keep me healthy, however I don't understand how. She lays in her bed, unmoving, yet I still feel her caring for me. At some point she stops talking. I feel uneasy. I go find help.

There are people, but no one I think can help. There's a part of me filled with hope to save her, yet I know when I return it'll be too late. I find myself at a medical center. Although it seems quite makeshift, like it's not supposed to be there. It has ballroom-esque ceilings almost like it was meant to be a place for partygoers or for mass worship.

People are rushing by. They're in a panic, not quite sure of what's happening or how to stop it. A nurse tells me to hide and barricade myself away. I don't think, I immediately comply. I find a secluded space and an old bookshelf. I try my best to shove it in the open gap that was a door.

People are coming. Maybe they're seeking refuge? I slightly move the bookshelf and am hit with the sudden realization that these people were past seeking refuge. With a glint of yellow green in their eyes they ran at me. I fought and reset the bookshelf firmly in the door. Things seemed safe until the walls turned into pillars.

New gaps for danger to enter. I sought out supplies to fill the gaps before a new hoard emerged. The gaps almost full and holding off what they could. I see a dog, a small dog, maybe it's a service dog. Excited for companionship, I do not stop it from coming in. However, it's erratic behavior made me question that choice. Stumbling, biting, clawing at me.

I went to grab it by the scruff to shove it out the space it came, when I saw that same yellow green glint in its eyes as I saw in the people that were far past gone. Animals too? How could this be? I wondered if when I eventually returned home if I would find mother in this same state or if there was still time.

I doubted that, but somehow remained hopeful. I sit waiting for the screaming and ruckus outside the barricades to stop. Unsure of how to proceed, my brain transfers me betwixt dreams. Now I'm somewhere else.