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The Pepper-Spray

Me and Sherlock are homeless. We’re traveling to somewhere important. Along the way, we go to a gas station diner and sit at one of the tables. We talk instead of eat, because neither of us have the money to buy food in our current predicament, but the manager of the restaurant offers us free cookies. I accept, and decide I will also need milk. I stand to go over to the soda fountain, but the manager suddenly gets stern and picky, saying that I will need to get an exact amount of milk or he’ll charge over. I’m okay with that, because I know I have just enough in the account for milk if nothing else, but the guy is still freaking out about it. When he finally leaves the room, to get some mats for me and Sherlock to sleep on, I go over to the soda fountain and fill up a cup with milk. I try to make it only 8 oz but I’m not sure I got the measurements right.
Before I can even get to the table again, the guy returns with two blue mats and tosses them under one of the tables to the left. The restaurant now looks like a train car- with tables by the seats lining the walls. Sherlock crawls under the table and lays on one side, and I’m about to join him on the other. The manager has left, the lights are off, and there is a knock at the door. I go over to it, and pull it open, to find Luna. I’m very happy to see her, though she seems more stoic like Angel in Angel Beats.
Now I am her, and my dad bursts into the carriage. He gives me a hug, which I do not return, and hope he doesn’t notice the object in my pocket. Naturally, he does. He demands to know what it is, but I refuse to tell him. I’m a grown woman and don’t have to obey his rule, but he lifts me by the shoulders two feet off the ground and refuses to set me down. I have no choice but to pull the can of pepper-spray from my pocket and show him. He is completely disgusted with me carrying around something like that. He’s disgusted and angry. He snatches it from me and starts to spray it. Then he notices my dog. I scream at him to stop, but he won’t listen. He lets the liquid drip onto Skye’s nose, and Skye being the curious puppy, doesn’t realize it’s a bad thing until it touches his nose. He runs away, but my dad calls him back. He’s such a loyal and trusting dog, bless his heart, he comes straight back for more.
I scream at my dad, who is laughing at the torture he’s putting my dog through, to stop. He won’t listen. So instead, I physically grip his wrist and turn the can to my eyes. “Spray me,” I demand. “If you’re going to spray anything, make it me. Not Skye.”
He shrugs and decides to take me up on the offer. He lays onto the button, and the mist fills my eyes. It burns, oh how it burns, but I refuse to scream. I take it all in, even forcing myself to keep my eyes open. The pepper-spray fills my eyes with painful images, images of my worst fears and painful memories. It makes me weak to the point of passing out. My knees start to buckle when I hear Sherlock screaming in anger. Suddenly the spray has stopped. I’m falling, but I don’t slam to the floor. Sherlock catches me, and gently guides me down. [End]

Relative to Real Life~
Night of January 31st, 2014
Real-life characters: Sherlock (BBC’s Sherlock), Luna (Harry-Potter), Dad, Skye.
Dream-created characters: Manager guy.
Real-life places: None.
Dream-created places: Restaurant/Carriage.
Different than real life: I’m not homeless, my dad wouldn’t get pissed at me for having a can of pepper-spray in my pocket.
Reoccurring: No.
Precognitive: No experiences.

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