(Entered in paper journal at 8:19 PM at home in Brooklyn.)
Dream 1
I was in "my cousin AH's bedroom" with my mom. My mom may have been speaking bad about AH. The room was dark, with just a dim light coming from the front of AH's CD player.
I was curious about a couple of AH's CDs, one of which may have been by the Beatles. I filed through the CDs -- somehow it was like I was thumbing through discs that were behind glass on a mini-jukebox.
AH came in at some point. My mom had disappeared. AH sat on her bed. She wasn't quite AH. Her head, especially her eyes, seemed fake.
I apologized about going through AH's things. AH said it was okay, if I was willing to "do something" (i.e. do something sexual) for her. I sat on AH's lap. She wore soft, yellow shorts. She was tall, well-built, and blonde.
AH pulled me toward her and kissed me. But her mouth was smoky with cigarettes. I saw a cigarette in AH's left hand -- little red fringes in the dim, silver-blue light.
I got off AH. She tried to kiss me again. I pushed her back. She fell back onto the bed. I told her I couldn't be with her if she smoked -- I'm sort of allergic to cigarette smoke.
AH tried to blow off my concern like it wasn't a big deal. I felt anxiety. AH might take offense and punish me for having thumbed through her CDs now that I wouldn't get romantic with her.
Showing posts with label cousin AH. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cousin AH. Show all posts
Sunday, February 12, 2017
Saturday, January 26, 2013
(1/30/08) they didn't let just anybody stay here
(Entered in paper journal at 6 AM on Q-train from Brooklyn to Manhattan.)
Dream #1
I was in a place like a cabin in the woods. It was supposed to be a hotel. I was in the living room with three other people, two of whom were possibly a young woman and an older man. All three were at a longish table sat against the wall on its short side between two bedrooms.
I wanted to be at this hotel. The people told me that they didn't let just anybody stay here. The people who stayed here had to be quiet and studious like them. I sat down at the table and opened my book, hoping that by reading with the people I could prove I was studious.
I stood outside a house in the mountain-suburbs. I was with my family. I walked just inside the front doorway. An oldish woman with long, white hair, blue eyes, a fattish, dumpy look, and wearing a brightly colored, plaid dress, like my mother might wear, sat on a chair or a box in front of me. The woman was talking to me. I thought of her as my great-grandmother on my grandmother's side of the family. Her speech didn't make much sense.
My aunt B led me inside the living room to a box maybe five feet long and one and a half feet deep. There were all kinds of paintings and drawings inside. My aunt B stood to my left. She wore an orange shirt.
My aunt B pulled some of the paintings and drawings out of the box and showed them to me. She told me they were drawings she'd made when she was a child. I was pretty impressed. The styles and subjects were all different.
My aunt B made a comment, possibly about how maybe the pieces weren't all as good as she thought. I patted her on the back and embraced her to encourage her, but I also did or said something that might have made her feel even worse.
We noticed that on the box flaps were huge swatches of green and blue crayon marking. Either I or my aunt B said that one of my cousins, either AH or B, probably made those markings when they were trying to be artistic.
I sat in a dining room table with a few people from my company. The table was longish, oval, and dark. The room was dim, the only light being that which came in from a lit, probably orange-walled, room behind us.
My senior co-worker, and one of the foremost analysts in my company, DC, was to my right. Her hair was undone and straight. Her bangs came straight down over her forehead. DC was telling me how everybody would like to hire me as a first-year analyst, but how I needed to get all my degrees first. DC called into the back room to my boss BS. BS stuck his head in and agreed with DC.
I walked into a big room which must have been lit by daylight. It was a conference room, but there were folding chairs all over the place, haphazardly placed, as if this were just some big, casual living room. The carpet was like the carpet of a living room, thick and grey. There were tall, dark wood columns running through the room. At the front of the room was a folding table. I sat in one of the folding chairs near the middle of the room.
Somebody introduced ML, my company's main economics analyst. ML got up and presented. But I couldn't understand a thing he said. It was like all his ideas kept trailing of.
We now got up, as if it were a break time, or time for some other presentation. Then we came back. I went to the wall first, as if to gather some of my personal belongings before sitting down. I had to explain to somebody that he hadn't heard wrong, that this was another presentation by ML, picking up where ML had left off before.
I might have stayed standing. ML came back. He was now dressed in a light blue spandex outfit and cape, including a mask (?) that was pulled over his face and covered about the top half of his face. ML said that since it was New Year's, and we were all going to the New Year's party dressed up, that ML would just give his presentation dressed up. Nobody thought this made any sense, but I thought it was fine. ML started talking and not making any sense again. I wondered how we were going to get anything out of this presentation.
Now SC, one of the main analysts for the company's mortgage-backed securities division, got up to speak, as if to clarify everything ML had just said. Everybody cheered as SC got up -- not in contrast to ML, but just because he was so famous. But something about the cheering annoyed me. I thought, Can't we just get down to business? Why does everything have to be just showing off or nonsense?
Dream #1
I was in a place like a cabin in the woods. It was supposed to be a hotel. I was in the living room with three other people, two of whom were possibly a young woman and an older man. All three were at a longish table sat against the wall on its short side between two bedrooms.
I wanted to be at this hotel. The people told me that they didn't let just anybody stay here. The people who stayed here had to be quiet and studious like them. I sat down at the table and opened my book, hoping that by reading with the people I could prove I was studious.
I stood outside a house in the mountain-suburbs. I was with my family. I walked just inside the front doorway. An oldish woman with long, white hair, blue eyes, a fattish, dumpy look, and wearing a brightly colored, plaid dress, like my mother might wear, sat on a chair or a box in front of me. The woman was talking to me. I thought of her as my great-grandmother on my grandmother's side of the family. Her speech didn't make much sense.
My aunt B led me inside the living room to a box maybe five feet long and one and a half feet deep. There were all kinds of paintings and drawings inside. My aunt B stood to my left. She wore an orange shirt.
My aunt B pulled some of the paintings and drawings out of the box and showed them to me. She told me they were drawings she'd made when she was a child. I was pretty impressed. The styles and subjects were all different.
My aunt B made a comment, possibly about how maybe the pieces weren't all as good as she thought. I patted her on the back and embraced her to encourage her, but I also did or said something that might have made her feel even worse.
We noticed that on the box flaps were huge swatches of green and blue crayon marking. Either I or my aunt B said that one of my cousins, either AH or B, probably made those markings when they were trying to be artistic.
I sat in a dining room table with a few people from my company. The table was longish, oval, and dark. The room was dim, the only light being that which came in from a lit, probably orange-walled, room behind us.
My senior co-worker, and one of the foremost analysts in my company, DC, was to my right. Her hair was undone and straight. Her bangs came straight down over her forehead. DC was telling me how everybody would like to hire me as a first-year analyst, but how I needed to get all my degrees first. DC called into the back room to my boss BS. BS stuck his head in and agreed with DC.
I walked into a big room which must have been lit by daylight. It was a conference room, but there were folding chairs all over the place, haphazardly placed, as if this were just some big, casual living room. The carpet was like the carpet of a living room, thick and grey. There were tall, dark wood columns running through the room. At the front of the room was a folding table. I sat in one of the folding chairs near the middle of the room.
Somebody introduced ML, my company's main economics analyst. ML got up and presented. But I couldn't understand a thing he said. It was like all his ideas kept trailing of.
We now got up, as if it were a break time, or time for some other presentation. Then we came back. I went to the wall first, as if to gather some of my personal belongings before sitting down. I had to explain to somebody that he hadn't heard wrong, that this was another presentation by ML, picking up where ML had left off before.
I might have stayed standing. ML came back. He was now dressed in a light blue spandex outfit and cape, including a mask (?) that was pulled over his face and covered about the top half of his face. ML said that since it was New Year's, and we were all going to the New Year's party dressed up, that ML would just give his presentation dressed up. Nobody thought this made any sense, but I thought it was fine. ML started talking and not making any sense again. I wondered how we were going to get anything out of this presentation.
Now SC, one of the main analysts for the company's mortgage-backed securities division, got up to speak, as if to clarify everything ML had just said. Everybody cheered as SC got up -- not in contrast to ML, but just because he was so famous. But something about the cheering annoyed me. I thought, Can't we just get down to business? Why does everything have to be just showing off or nonsense?
Sunday, January 20, 2013
(5/26/08) washing a painting; no idea who i am
(Entered in paper journal at 9:06 AM at Flying Saucer cafe in Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
I was possibly on a dark shore with my mom, my aunt M, and another woman, possibly my cousin AH. The sky was dark, almost brownish. The ground was like mud, or like muddy pools.
My mom and the other woman stood in two different puddles full of muddy water. They were wading their arms into the water as if cleaning something off. They were also searching for something, possibly a painting.
I ended up standing in the water in my mother's place. I may have held the painting. I may have been washing it off with the muddy water. As I was doing so, my aunt was talking about how incompetent my mom was, how she hadn't been able to find the painting.
Dream #2
I stood in a very cramped room with a few people, among whom were my mother, my oldest nephew, and a few other family members. The room was probably a kitchen and was bright with light from a window. My nephew sat by a stainless steel refrigerator. His dull reflection showed on one of the sides of the fridge -- possibly not the side he sat next to, which may, however, have been bright with window-light reflection.
I said to my nephew, "You know that this you" (I pointed to my nephew's reflection) "isn't real, right?" My nephew said yes. I then asked him, "But, now, are you quite sure that this you" (I pointed to him, but toward his lap) "is real?" I could tell that other people in the room were listening to me and thinking that I was trying to teach my nephew a good lesson.
There was now a scene before me -- a McDonald's menu all in red, as if written in some kind of fancy menu card and hung up on a wall. I was working to figure out how McDonald's sales would perform given their new menu.
I now sat in an audience, looking out at a very dim stage, which may have been lit with red-orange light, and which was pretty much level with the front row of seats. There were two men, possibly Asian, who were making some deep statements about something like business or finance.
As the men started speaking, some recording started, music or voice, which was supposed to appear like it came from a device, like a phone or a HAM radio, or a person at a table on the right side of the stage. I thought the double-sound was making a statement on the reality and unreality of everything we say -- as if everything we say is and is not based in reality. The speech of the Asian man became more philosophical than businesslike.
Suddenly one of my senior co-workers, KU, who was sitting behind me and just to my right, got angry at the person sitting behind him. He said, "You'd better apologize and clean that up right now!" I could tell that the person sitting behind KU had spilled something like a chocolate shake on the floor and that it had spilled into KU's row. The person behind KU, I felt, was a young man, pale white, with shaggyish, blonde hair and possibly some scraggly facial hair and wearing jeans and a t-shirt for some heavy metal band.
KU said, "You have no idea who I am, and how much I can mess with your life if you don't apologize!"
The man behind KU now said something like, "I have just as many connections as you have!" He then made some reference to a group of very powerful people in the Private Equity industry.
I had been hoping KU could get this guy to apologize. It had becoming clearer to me that this guy had spilled his drink into KU's space on purpose. I thought KU had been right to stand up for himself. But now I felt despair at the fact that this guy fought against KU in the same way and simply wouldn't apologize.
Dream #1
I was possibly on a dark shore with my mom, my aunt M, and another woman, possibly my cousin AH. The sky was dark, almost brownish. The ground was like mud, or like muddy pools.
My mom and the other woman stood in two different puddles full of muddy water. They were wading their arms into the water as if cleaning something off. They were also searching for something, possibly a painting.
I ended up standing in the water in my mother's place. I may have held the painting. I may have been washing it off with the muddy water. As I was doing so, my aunt was talking about how incompetent my mom was, how she hadn't been able to find the painting.
Dream #2
I stood in a very cramped room with a few people, among whom were my mother, my oldest nephew, and a few other family members. The room was probably a kitchen and was bright with light from a window. My nephew sat by a stainless steel refrigerator. His dull reflection showed on one of the sides of the fridge -- possibly not the side he sat next to, which may, however, have been bright with window-light reflection.
I said to my nephew, "You know that this you" (I pointed to my nephew's reflection) "isn't real, right?" My nephew said yes. I then asked him, "But, now, are you quite sure that this you" (I pointed to him, but toward his lap) "is real?" I could tell that other people in the room were listening to me and thinking that I was trying to teach my nephew a good lesson.
There was now a scene before me -- a McDonald's menu all in red, as if written in some kind of fancy menu card and hung up on a wall. I was working to figure out how McDonald's sales would perform given their new menu.
I now sat in an audience, looking out at a very dim stage, which may have been lit with red-orange light, and which was pretty much level with the front row of seats. There were two men, possibly Asian, who were making some deep statements about something like business or finance.
As the men started speaking, some recording started, music or voice, which was supposed to appear like it came from a device, like a phone or a HAM radio, or a person at a table on the right side of the stage. I thought the double-sound was making a statement on the reality and unreality of everything we say -- as if everything we say is and is not based in reality. The speech of the Asian man became more philosophical than businesslike.
Suddenly one of my senior co-workers, KU, who was sitting behind me and just to my right, got angry at the person sitting behind him. He said, "You'd better apologize and clean that up right now!" I could tell that the person sitting behind KU had spilled something like a chocolate shake on the floor and that it had spilled into KU's row. The person behind KU, I felt, was a young man, pale white, with shaggyish, blonde hair and possibly some scraggly facial hair and wearing jeans and a t-shirt for some heavy metal band.
KU said, "You have no idea who I am, and how much I can mess with your life if you don't apologize!"
The man behind KU now said something like, "I have just as many connections as you have!" He then made some reference to a group of very powerful people in the Private Equity industry.
I had been hoping KU could get this guy to apologize. It had becoming clearer to me that this guy had spilled his drink into KU's space on purpose. I thought KU had been right to stand up for himself. But now I felt despair at the fact that this guy fought against KU in the same way and simply wouldn't apologize.
(6/23/08) reminiscence before death; grounded flights
(Entered in paper journal at 7:15 AM on B-train from Brooklyn to Manhattan.)
Dream #1
I stood in a hallway, looking in to a room through a wide window, as if I were looking into a nursery in a hospital. The room, though, was like a room in a log cabin. There were a few people in the room, spread out in couples or singly. The people were supposed to be people from my work. Closest to me was my old boss DO, who was speaking about me, possibly mumbling to himself, sitting on a reclining chair, with a blanket over his legs.
On the opposite end of the room an older looking couple sat in a booth like in a 1950s style diner. They held hands across the table. The man was fat, with shaggy, red hair and a beard and big, thick glasses. The woman (the man's wife?) looked like she was out of a cartoon. She wore a frumpy, purple dress and a round hat like an old maid in a forest house might wear. She had thin, round glasses and grey hair and a roundish face and body.
For some reason I thought this couple was speaking nostalgically about their life together, as if they knew they were going to die very soon.
Dream #2
I was in the lobby of an enormous luxury hotel. The interior was of peach and pink marble, and it was lit dimly with golden light. I was all by myself.
I thought of or recalled my cousin AH. She had been living or staying in this hotel. She might have been gone now. I had been staying at this hotel, too. But then I'd left. Now I'd come back, possibly because of travel difficulties.
I heard my aunt M telling me I could stay in AH's room. But I realized that my own old room was open, not to mention some "very nice" rooms which used to be occupied by rich people.
I walked through a number of hallways, some of which were very cheap-looking and lit fluorescent. Finally I came to a room, probably the room my aunt M told me I could stay in. The room was small and cluttered. I was disappointed with it.
Dream #3
It was night and raining heavily. I was outside an airport. I might have been late catching my flight. I was going to Chicago. I went into the airport.
I stood before a ticket counter or information counter. The attendant, a black woman, told me that my flight still hadn't been left yet. It might actually have been canceled due to the awful weather. But another flight was leaving at 11:03. But there was a chance that this flight would also not be able to leave. I could "see" or "feel" that the jet for this flight was an enormous jumbo jet.
Dream #1
I stood in a hallway, looking in to a room through a wide window, as if I were looking into a nursery in a hospital. The room, though, was like a room in a log cabin. There were a few people in the room, spread out in couples or singly. The people were supposed to be people from my work. Closest to me was my old boss DO, who was speaking about me, possibly mumbling to himself, sitting on a reclining chair, with a blanket over his legs.
On the opposite end of the room an older looking couple sat in a booth like in a 1950s style diner. They held hands across the table. The man was fat, with shaggy, red hair and a beard and big, thick glasses. The woman (the man's wife?) looked like she was out of a cartoon. She wore a frumpy, purple dress and a round hat like an old maid in a forest house might wear. She had thin, round glasses and grey hair and a roundish face and body.
For some reason I thought this couple was speaking nostalgically about their life together, as if they knew they were going to die very soon.
Dream #2
I was in the lobby of an enormous luxury hotel. The interior was of peach and pink marble, and it was lit dimly with golden light. I was all by myself.
I thought of or recalled my cousin AH. She had been living or staying in this hotel. She might have been gone now. I had been staying at this hotel, too. But then I'd left. Now I'd come back, possibly because of travel difficulties.
I heard my aunt M telling me I could stay in AH's room. But I realized that my own old room was open, not to mention some "very nice" rooms which used to be occupied by rich people.
I walked through a number of hallways, some of which were very cheap-looking and lit fluorescent. Finally I came to a room, probably the room my aunt M told me I could stay in. The room was small and cluttered. I was disappointed with it.
Dream #3
It was night and raining heavily. I was outside an airport. I might have been late catching my flight. I was going to Chicago. I went into the airport.
I stood before a ticket counter or information counter. The attendant, a black woman, told me that my flight still hadn't been left yet. It might actually have been canceled due to the awful weather. But another flight was leaving at 11:03. But there was a chance that this flight would also not be able to leave. I could "see" or "feel" that the jet for this flight was an enormous jumbo jet.
Monday, November 12, 2012
(10/2/09) she'll be gone soon
(Entered in paper journal at 7:45 AM at Red Horse cafe in Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
I was wandering around a square track of grassy land, in a "path" like a mowed or heavily rolled-over strip of grass. It was a sunny day, a little humid, the air yellow-white against the blue sky.
My family was nearby. I was walking my way back to them. I had had to get something or do something for them. But I might not have been able to do this. Now, working my way up the last stretch of grass, i saw my family sitting out on two slopes, as if I were down in a level rut, and my family were up at both tops of the rut.
My family sat in white, plastic chairs, partly in shade and partly in light. Just beyond them was a grey, rectangular house like a double-wide trailer. This may have been my great grandmother's house. I knew I'd probably had to do something for my great grandmother, who was going to die. My great grandmother was going to die regardless of whether I completed the task. The task was more like an act of kindness or nostalgia, like locating an old object.
I could now hear some of my old family members talking. The people sitting outside, I could tell, without quite seeing, were my cousin AH, my great grandmother, my grandfather, probably my mother, and a couple other people.
I knew now that my great grandma had a disease affecting her brain, like Alzheimer's disease. My cousin was speaking very cheerfully, but I could tell she was trying to be cruel to my great grandma. She said something that sounded at first like she was going to tell my great grandma, "You're doomed. You're basically already dead." But she then changed what she said, sounding more innocent and naive.
She then said, "And then I thought, Well, why don't I make a test? So I said, 'Grandma, first touch XXXXX's top button, then touch XXXXX's second button, then come back and touch XXXXX's top button, then go touch all the buttons on everybody's sweaters.'"
(I could see that everybody sitting in the chairs wore big, baggy, knit, tan, wool sweaters which had large buttons down their fronts, like the puffs down the front of a clown's outfit.)
My cousin continued, "When you couldn't accomplish this task, Grandma, I thought to myself, Yep. That's it. Grandma's mind is going for sure. She'll be gone soon."
I now looked up, seeing the ceiling of my great grandma's back dining room -- the one from her waking life house, not the double-wide trailer. Light from the back window passed across the ceiling, glazing over the light fixture.
I thought to myself, Why did AH have to say such a cruel thing? I was mad, but suddenly I was very sad.
I looked before me. My sister, who was a thin girl wearing a pale purple, long-underwear-style shirt, came up to me and hugged me. As she did, AH walked into the dining room and sat down at the table.
AH said, "And then I said, 'How weak is that? To get so upset over such a nobody dying? I always knew he was so weak emotionally.'"
My sister was now gone. I was infuriated. I knew AH had been taunting me, implying that I was weak for caring about my great grandma.
I turned to face AH, who now looked like a girl C, a girl about my sister's age, who ended up being like another member of my immediate family. AH kept on taunting me, talking about how weak I was, for crying because my great grandmother had died.
AH was now seated in some weird way, so that she was backed against the corner of the room, her right side facing the window. I punched her in the nose. She just leered at me like it didn't even hurt. So I punched her again and again, until her nose was red with blood. Still she acted like she couldn't even feel anything.
Now my sister came in and began yelling at AH. My sister asked how AH could dare to taunt me like this. AH, now looking like herself, but at about the age of fourteen, stood with her back to the window, right about in the center of the window. I kept punching AH in the nose as my sister kept yelling at her.
Suddenly the window was broken in a fragmented, shard-tattered arch, arcing about halfway up the window. AH stood outside the window. Her nose was so busted open that it was just like a red blot on her face. She stood on the lawn, is if the lawn outside were level with the kitchen floor inside.
In the outdoor light, AH's face took on a pale, almost purplish-white glow, as if AH were being camcorded and the image was slightly light-shocked. AH had a spattering of blood on her face, circling around her nose. The blood looked almost bright maroon, more like cranberry sauce than blood.
AH shouted, reproachfully and furiously, "Why did you have to do such a cruel thing to your cousin? To your own cousin?!" She ran away to the right. I suddenly realized that I had hit my cousin, I had hit a girl. I couldn't believe I had done such a cowardly, cruel thing. I got so panicked that I screamed out. (I actually believe I woke from this dream scream-whimpering.)
Dream #1
I was wandering around a square track of grassy land, in a "path" like a mowed or heavily rolled-over strip of grass. It was a sunny day, a little humid, the air yellow-white against the blue sky.
My family was nearby. I was walking my way back to them. I had had to get something or do something for them. But I might not have been able to do this. Now, working my way up the last stretch of grass, i saw my family sitting out on two slopes, as if I were down in a level rut, and my family were up at both tops of the rut.
My family sat in white, plastic chairs, partly in shade and partly in light. Just beyond them was a grey, rectangular house like a double-wide trailer. This may have been my great grandmother's house. I knew I'd probably had to do something for my great grandmother, who was going to die. My great grandmother was going to die regardless of whether I completed the task. The task was more like an act of kindness or nostalgia, like locating an old object.
I could now hear some of my old family members talking. The people sitting outside, I could tell, without quite seeing, were my cousin AH, my great grandmother, my grandfather, probably my mother, and a couple other people.
I knew now that my great grandma had a disease affecting her brain, like Alzheimer's disease. My cousin was speaking very cheerfully, but I could tell she was trying to be cruel to my great grandma. She said something that sounded at first like she was going to tell my great grandma, "You're doomed. You're basically already dead." But she then changed what she said, sounding more innocent and naive.
She then said, "And then I thought, Well, why don't I make a test? So I said, 'Grandma, first touch XXXXX's top button, then touch XXXXX's second button, then come back and touch XXXXX's top button, then go touch all the buttons on everybody's sweaters.'"
(I could see that everybody sitting in the chairs wore big, baggy, knit, tan, wool sweaters which had large buttons down their fronts, like the puffs down the front of a clown's outfit.)
My cousin continued, "When you couldn't accomplish this task, Grandma, I thought to myself, Yep. That's it. Grandma's mind is going for sure. She'll be gone soon."
I now looked up, seeing the ceiling of my great grandma's back dining room -- the one from her waking life house, not the double-wide trailer. Light from the back window passed across the ceiling, glazing over the light fixture.
I thought to myself, Why did AH have to say such a cruel thing? I was mad, but suddenly I was very sad.
I looked before me. My sister, who was a thin girl wearing a pale purple, long-underwear-style shirt, came up to me and hugged me. As she did, AH walked into the dining room and sat down at the table.
AH said, "And then I said, 'How weak is that? To get so upset over such a nobody dying? I always knew he was so weak emotionally.'"
My sister was now gone. I was infuriated. I knew AH had been taunting me, implying that I was weak for caring about my great grandma.
I turned to face AH, who now looked like a girl C, a girl about my sister's age, who ended up being like another member of my immediate family. AH kept on taunting me, talking about how weak I was, for crying because my great grandmother had died.
AH was now seated in some weird way, so that she was backed against the corner of the room, her right side facing the window. I punched her in the nose. She just leered at me like it didn't even hurt. So I punched her again and again, until her nose was red with blood. Still she acted like she couldn't even feel anything.
Now my sister came in and began yelling at AH. My sister asked how AH could dare to taunt me like this. AH, now looking like herself, but at about the age of fourteen, stood with her back to the window, right about in the center of the window. I kept punching AH in the nose as my sister kept yelling at her.
Suddenly the window was broken in a fragmented, shard-tattered arch, arcing about halfway up the window. AH stood outside the window. Her nose was so busted open that it was just like a red blot on her face. She stood on the lawn, is if the lawn outside were level with the kitchen floor inside.
In the outdoor light, AH's face took on a pale, almost purplish-white glow, as if AH were being camcorded and the image was slightly light-shocked. AH had a spattering of blood on her face, circling around her nose. The blood looked almost bright maroon, more like cranberry sauce than blood.
AH shouted, reproachfully and furiously, "Why did you have to do such a cruel thing to your cousin? To your own cousin?!" She ran away to the right. I suddenly realized that I had hit my cousin, I had hit a girl. I couldn't believe I had done such a cowardly, cruel thing. I got so panicked that I screamed out. (I actually believe I woke from this dream scream-whimpering.)
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