Post 21: My School through the eyes of Orleanna

I had a bad dream last night. I dreamed that I moved through the thicket of Kilanga, through imposing vines vying for sunlight and water, through the gigantic and eclipsing trees, of which there are so many types anyone would think it is a collection of exotic plants. As I pushed my way through this greenery, this forest which eats itself in an endless cycle of rebirth, I saw an unusual sight.

I took a step forward out of mud, and for the first time in months, I felt the sensation of scorching cement! I would've shrieked from the pain had I not been so relieved to see the comforts I felt back home: running water that isn't from a well or pump! Bathrooms! I waited every minute in Kilanga for this moment where I could use all these everyday appliances I took for granted before! I've never told anyone this before, but for all the time I was in Kilanga, I carried a small knife with me, whose blade was about 4 inches long. This was for the purpose of having the luxury of slitting my wrists at any time, which releases endomorphisms into my blood stream. At the sight of this haven, of western items, and buildings, I threw down my knife.

Why couldn't Nathan come to his senses; does he not miss all of this? I saw a group of children: one working on homework, the others talking. Most of them didn't have blond hair as I do, but rather have black or dark brown hair. I hadn't seen anyone like them before, but they smiled at me and waved. It was a very surreal experience, where I was looking back on the life I could once have lived: in a contemporary environment, instead of the real environment where all but nothing was taken from me, my daughters, our lives. I walked over to a building, and looked inside a window. To my shock, I gazed into a window and saw our little house in Kilanga, complete with mud walls and mud floor, and multiple beds all with mosquito netting around them. I shook my head; this couldn't be true! When I gazed back inside, I was relieved to see a classroom where a teacher was pointing at something which seemed like a chalkboard, yet it was white, and when the teacher wrote, the ink which resided after the "chalk" passed was dark blue. I nonchalantly took a closer look at the teacher, for it seemed as though it was someone I knew. I couldn't tell since he kept showing his back to me. I shrieked out loud this time, when that man turned to face me. It was Nathan, and he smiled at me. I was torn back from this personal paradise of mine, where I had my life back? I was flung back into my bed, sweating profusely in horror of this dream being over. I felt the dry mosquito netting encompassing my bed. I sighed deeply, lifted the net up, put on my slippers, and walked slowly and reminiscently OUTSIDE to get myself a drink of water.

Why must I have these bad dreams; nightmares of getting out of this horrible place? Why must I have these dreams of hope, when here there resides none? I wish I had my knife back.