Some disaster had occurred, post-apocalyptic even…or that’s how things felt. I was with Logan and we were in a camp. Strangely enough the scenery was bright and actually looked like the booths at carnivals.

Then this man appeared in the crowd. He looked like a Rastafarian but he was playing bagpipes. Everyone stared at him, which was his desired effect. He stopped playing the bagpipes, spun around, and crashed through these booths. The booths’ walls were made out of tissue paper and he ran through several walls before he disappeared.

I became paranoid and I knew that whole spectacle was ominous and that he would be back. So then I grabbed Logan and hid underneath one of the booths. Then just as I predicted the man reappeared and with a bang, too. Everyone was frightened and fell to the floor.

I knew what he would do and where he would go.

He would look for us, and he would find us soon enough.

I must have awoken for fear of my baby. Why must she always be in danger.

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