Bad Dreams....

Ami shakes as she washes off in the cold water of the kitchen sink, she is DEFINITELY not going in that bathroom again. In fact, she has poured bleach down the drain and shut the door, and put all manner of furniture in front of it, not until even a mouse trying to get through would make a sound on the variety of precariously balanced plates, bells, books and string. She shakes from head to toe, going in her room and barricading the door similarly, having not eaten all night, so panicked she doesnt know what to.

Her feet, that hurt so incredibly bad, have no marks on them, and she is convinced she is losing it. She grabs pillows and blankets and carries them down stairs into the store. She curls up on a couch and falls asleep surprisingly fast. And she Dreams....Oh the dreams...

Blood.... Blood is dripping from the ceiling in her store and she wanders over to it... Standing under it, letting it plop plop plop into her mouth... She greedily laps it up, her soul singing with joy while her conscience cringes . It turns into a stream, and she puts a towel down so no books get ruined and stands under it, drinking and drinking, the floor is filling and she giddily splashes her feet in the pools of blood on the floor, not caring about the store, she lays down in it, there are no tub monsters here, just all that delicious blood waiting to be drunk. She tries to run upstairs to get tupperwares so she can save some for later but the door is locked... She isnt scared, she just surmises that she needs to drink it all, and NOW. She gluts herself, rolling in the heavenly coppery sea of delight, her hundreds of tattoos obscured in an instant.

A car backfire at 9AM makes her jolt away still swallowing blood, she jumps up, the store unforntunately not awash with the stuff, she feels a bite on the inside of her lip and shrugs off the dream as a flight of fancy. She goes upstairs only to put on clothes and eat a piece of toast, not even approaching the bathroom, using the one downstairs in the store.