The Panancentenial

Okay, this one is EXTREMELY late, but at least I'm finally putting it up.

March 21, 2015

The dream started with me changing, apparently having just showered, and finding I managed to somehow forget to grab a shirt. Leaving the bathroom, I went into my room, finding it to be crowded with three beds. On a large flat screen, Mark and Mar (youngest older brother and his wife) were playing a game in which they were kissing in. They called me out, saying they were about to have sex (in-game) and that I couldn't watch. I retorted by reminding them I was 19, and only wanted to get a shirt from my closet.

Leaving the room with a shirt on, I managed to get stuck between the newly added bed, the wall, and a backpack which I noted should have been easy to get over. While I was stuck, I spoke to a third person staying in the room; a native African male who was likely related to my older sister's husband. We quickly found each other cool, and I finally managed to get over the backpack. Exiting my room, I found about three girls standing there, apparently also being loosely related to me. At this point, I was beginning to wonder what was going on.

The scene changed, skipping some time. Now, I just got out of our family van and found that my mother had driven herself, my father, my little sister and I to a prison field. It was full of people (mostly males) wearing orange vests, and blue vests. My inner monologue explained that those wearing orange were the prisoners, while those with blue were the chaperoning guards. Even though I questioned the apparent lack of consistency with this rule. I did think something like "Oh, so the prisoners really do wear orange."

Suddenly, the prisoners. cheered, quickly leaving the premise. A gang of four wearing green bandannas walked by us. I looked up and made brief eye contact with the leader; a black man in a wheel chair. The gang begun to speak to us, but my dad stood up and begun to uncharacteristically swear, talking in a stereotypical black gangster dialect. One of the members, named their gang as "The PPP", which my dad attempted to interpret the meaning of. I don't quite remember any of them. but one of the final guesses included the words"People" and "Plaza". After this, they vanished and the fiasco came to a close.

Celebration broke out; apparently over the "Panancentenial", which I didn't quite understand the point of making such a big deal out of it... rather, I didn't understand it all. As you might figure, there was pan-related puns on flying streamers. Fireworks coloured the sky, forming the number "10,000". Eventually, I stood up and found my mother had gone to pickup the others and drop them off here.

Shortly after seeing some trays laying on our vehicles trunk, my mother came back wtih some of the guests, so I hung around them a bit. Eventually, the celebration ended, and I was standing by our church - which had been there the entire time - and a few girls walked around me, forming a circle around me. Shying away, I found I was able to close my eyes but still see their silhouettes and dodge around them as they formed the circle.

I turned to the church, the others having left now, and saw that there were small openings on the side of what would otherwise be the entrance. Knowing this was the proper way to get in and out, I tried to climb them, but failed. Despite my inability to squeeze through the small openings, I could clearly see much larger men squeeze through it with ease. Giving up, I went to the roof and dropped in. I was immediately silently greeted by a hunched over deacon in the form of a slowly sliding, nearly man-sized porcelain doll.

I gratefully took a pamphlet from him and proceeded to enter the auditorium... or rather, try to. Despite the far larger opening, I was unable to get into it, even if I was crawling on my belly and going in between the large, porcelain statue's legs. Annoyed, I rained a bar the statue held and crawled between the legs. As I met the main room, the pastor said I'd be damned to hell for doing what I just did. Essentially giving up, I pushed the statue over, shattering it. I then ran over to grab an average sized doll on a pedestal at the end of the room that acted as our deity, and quickly escaped.

In another room, I begun to beat the doll, my little sister joining to help. The doll cursed her, declaring her to be useless. Suddenly, I recalled how to defeat it, so I united a silk ribbon and retied it, crisscrossing the opposite way. The doll stopped speaking, so I stretched it's plastic-like material, tossing it out of the window.

As the dream cam to an end, my inner monologue explained that I later burned it. I t was never seen again.