"Daniel, what the hell?"
He just shrugged and walked off into the stacks.
I kept moving, trying to find Ms. Dai's voice or something that would lead me to the classroom. I could hear her teaching somewhere—her voice echoing through the trees like she was using a microphone, but also like she was a mile away. She was talking about photosynthesis, I think. Or maybe it was the Pythagorean theorem. Dream acoustics are trash.
I passed the same shelf three times. I know because there was a book called Wetland Ecosystems that I definitely recognized, and each time I saw it, there were more vines wrapped around it.
Then I turned a corner and ran into Daniel again. This time he was standing on top of a stump, holding a watering can, just pouring water onto a book. Not a plant. A book. It was getting completely soaked.
"Daniel. Why."
"It's thirsty," he said, like I was the weird one.
I didn't have time for this. I had to find Ms. Dai. Except now the library-forest was getting denser. The trees were closer together. The shelves were tilting. I had to duck under branches and step over roots, and I was pretty sure I saw a squirrel holding a library card.
Ms. Dai's voice was getting louder, but I still couldn't see her. I climbed over a fallen log that had a Dewey Decimal System poster nailed to it and found myself in this huge clearing where all the trees had glowing mushrooms growing on them. It was actually kind of pretty, in a "this is definitely not safe to breathe" way.
And there, in the middle of the clearing, was a desk. Just a desk. No Ms. Dai. No classroom. Just a single wooden desk with a piece of paper on it.
I walked over and picked up the paper.
It said: "You were supposed to be looking for the exit."
And that's when I realized—I didn't even have Ms. Dai's class. I wasn't late for anything. I'd been wandering around this nightmare library-forest for no reason, looking for a classroom that didn't exist, while Daniel was out here watering books and sexually harassing fungi.
I looked up, and Daniel was standing on the other side of the clearing, holding a potted plant upside down. Dirt was spilling everywhere.
"Daniel, do you know where the exit is?"
He pointed behind me.
I turned around, and there it was. The library door. Just sitting there between two trees, completely normal, like it had been there the whole time.
I walked through it.
And then I woke up.
I think my subconscious is trying to tell me I'm bad at asking for help. Or maybe it's just telling me to avoid Daniel in enclosed spaces.
Probably both.
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