It was a movie...somehow. None of us were watching it--we lived it. I remembered a scene from the "trailer" that I avoided later. Shit like that.
They were malicious. If they sensed panic, they'd turn on you. A normal person riding a bicycle one minute could be a vile attacker the next if you didn't keep your cool.
I knew it was a movie. Basically, that means that I knew it wasn't real and nothing would really hurt me. I asked dad if I could go back to the house because I didn't want to watch it and though none of it was real, I wanted to be in control; because even though they couldn't hurt me 'in real life,' it was scary as fuck in the meantime.
I said 'freaky as fuck' a few times and my parents got pissed. But they can't look at one of those things and say that it isn't freaky as fuck.
I needed to get out of there; to go somewhere. The Graceland library seemed like a good place; funny enough, it wasn't Graceland and looked nothing like Graceland at all(...and I'm not talking Elvis's Graceland, for those of you who don't live near me). The real Graceland doesn't even have a library.
The whole place was blocked by a huge chain-link fence. I climbed it (like a spider-monkey, I might add) and went in. Before I got to the library, I heard a noise within. I thought it was a zombie, which would have been a terrible position for me to be in. Instead, it was whatever motherfucker organized the whole deal; the whole "movies-actually-are-fucking-real-lol" shabam. He was sexy, though. I wanted him to get me out of there; I offered to sleep with him. He agreed to it, but it ended up not working out. Damn.
Michael stopped to ask me for a lighter.
I lay on the couch with Brandon and held his hand, but a person came up from behind us and mistook me for Hilary. Brandon got up and left me there.
...then I woke up.