Faces look ugly, when you’re alone.

I couldn’t sleep last night. I tossed and turned and only got about three hours’ worth of rest. But I had the strangest dream:

We (and by we I mean the people of my school, and some of the kids in my old youth group) were still in highschool. And we all went to Nampa High, which was in this mall/longbranch station (check it out, it’s in nampa) type place. The building also house the Big Easy Concert House. The only three people that I can remember were Phil, Cassie Carlson, and Daryl. The first two were alive and with me, but Daryl had killed herself, and I kept seeing her ghost. I kept seeing a lot of ghosts. No matter where I went, or what I tried to do, these ghosts kept visiting me. They weren’t benign either. There was something malevolent in their behavior.

Then I awoke. 

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