The dream began in a camp dorm room, very early in the morning (far before sunrise). I awoke before all of my campers in hope that I could shower before they awoke. I quietly gathered my soap, shampoo, towel, and change of clothes, and I snuck away to the nearest shower. Now, this shower was the exact same model, shape, and size as the shower in my room at Regent University (tight and square). However, the shower was in the middle of a yellow floor that spread endlessly into space (I could not see any walls; everything was an abyss).
The quick shower I had planned did not occur, for my body would not respond to my brain properly. I don't know if it was because it was so early or because of the tightness of the shower, but the shower, in dream time, took 45 minutes. When I was finally done, I rushed back to the dorm room. Unfortunately the campers had all risen, and they were already destroying everything due to a lack of supervision. Not knowing how to properly handle the situation, I ran into the wall, full force.
I next found myself in my living room with my two brothers, my father, and two infants I had not previously met. One baby was wearing a blue onesie and a white bonnet, and the other was wearing red pajamas. After several minutes of playing with them, the babies managed to wander outside into the front yard, which was covered in over a foot of snow. Right as the babies walked outside, the front yard became the site of an extreme and deadly snowball war between opposing junior high, white trash gangs.
Concerned for the safety of the miniature humans, my two brothers and my father ran outside to protect them. They were immediately pelted ferociously with balls of snow and ice, which must have felt more like cannon balls at the time. I watched on out the front window at the massacre, but I did not lift a finger to help. Then one of the gangs managed to launch a snowball with a circumference of over twenty feet right at the window. Needless to say, the entire wall collapsed, exposing my home to nature and to adolescence.
Fortunately the gangs had made a peace pact, and they both left my property. My family, along with the infants, returned into the wrecked home, not looking me in the eyes as a result of my cowardice. They took shelter in a small closet in the kitchen that does not exist in real life.
I knew that I needed to comfort them, but I did not have any idea how, for there was no way I could face them now. Then I had a grand idea: I could provide them with music from my pink iPod. This would surely lift their spirits.
I immediately grabbed some connecter cables, along with my pink iPod, and ran to find a way to reach the third floor, which was where the loudspeakers were stored. I was no longer in my house, but in a large mansion, and in this mansion, several middle-aged and older women I know were preparing for a large feast for an unknown occasion. I finally found the stairs, and after running over three tables of lasagna with my feet bare, mozzarella cheese sticking between my toes, I balanced my way up the rail (the steps were all broken, leading down to a deathly fall into the dark cellar). Once I was up the rail, I saw the loudspeakers (apparently they had been moved into the second floor). I darted for them, but was stopped short when I realized that I had left my iPod plugged into an outlet on the first floor. I tried to push my luck, but I disconnected the pink music player from the power, the connection broken at a difficult spot to reach on the rail.
After a long and drawn out event, mostly focused on me reconnecting the wire, I was finally ready to grace my family and guests to the unknown event with some of my wonderful and brilliant music. I pushed play, and everything was all better.
I still did not want to go back downstairs (I actually didn't know how to get back down, for in the process of reconnecting the iPod wires, I broke the rail of the stairs). With nothing else to do, I entered an adjacent room and discovered a room full of foosball tables.
Then I awoke.
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