Good morning, everybody.
I got into a long line that ran out outside the door of a building. The building may have been on a college campus, possibly the campus for my old university. The building was tall and white, made out of stone that kind of seemed to be chipping away.
I was in line with a group of college kids. I was telling myself, even as I was in line, that maybe it would be a good idea for me to go back to college. The line was something like a class registration line or a line for picking up the books for my classes.
Now that I was in line, I was starting to have second thoughts about going back to school. This long line, I thought, would probably only be the first of many long lines I'd be going through in school. Did I really want to do all that? And what about my old major? Would I really have to go back to the theatre department? What would people think of me?
But something about the theatre department made me think that things wouldn't be so bad after all. If people were there who remembered me, I might end up feeling comfortable and having a good time.
I was now up at a counter, talking with someone behind the counter. It seemed like it was after hours. The place was really empty and quiet. There were some window walls, and everything seemed dark outside. Inside, the light was a harsh, bright, greenish fluorescent. The counter I stood at was high, like a judge's bench. But the person behind it may have been dressed like a chef in a 1950s diner.
The guy behind the counter may have been trying to pacify me. The situation may have been tense, even though I didn't know it. I thought we were just talking normally, about day-to-day stuff. And we probably were. But the man may only have been talking to me this way to calm me down. I may have just finished beating the heck out of some guy, just smashing his face into the ground. But I wasn't quite sure if I'd actually done this.
Now a woman came up to the counter on my left. She was short and skinny, with a kind of boyish look. She wore a slim, shiny, black leather jacket. She had dark, olive colored skin and dark, reddish hair. She was smirking and saying something annoying. I knew she was getting ready to start trouble, and that she was trying to intimidate people beforehand, so people would be afraid to stop her before she started trouble.
I wouldn't let the woman intimidate me. I got really angry at her. I picked her up and began slamming her face into the ground. I was dragging the woman all the way to the door, bashing her face into the ground.
Now I was being walked back through the building, away from the front door. I couldn't quite believe or remember anything I'd done. But I looked at the floor and saw a trail of blood. It almost looked like stamps on the ground, like someone had stamped individual Rorschach designs on the floor in blood.
A couple of people, tall men, maybe one of them dressed like a hospital orderly, may have walked with me. One of the men had now gone out through some back door of the room we were in, probably to get a group of other guys to take care of me. In the meantime, I had to sit on a bench with some other guy. This guy was like the chef guy who had been behind the counter. We spoke calmly, but I could see that the guy was waiting for me to get violent again.
I was in an apartment, just moving in, even though the apartment looked furnished and completely moved into already. My sister may have been with me. The landlady was also with us. She was a young, blonde, pretty woman.
I had to give the woman my first month of rent money. But it turned out that instead of owing rent for a month, I only owed rent for a few days. My whole month's rent wouldn't actually be due until the following month.
Surprised, I pulled either some money or a check or money order for the small amount the woman had named out of my pocket and handed it to the woman.