It's a frosty, warm morning at the start of April. The tips of the grass glistening with dew as a ruby ladybug frolics around, the stingy smell of pollen flying through the air and landing on my nose, making me sneeze. A bird chatters in the distance, looking for love somewhere out there. This feels almost like a dream, memories swirling around my head like a tornado.

Then, in a daze, my mind begins to stumble, like a ballet dancer that stayed up all night and now has to perform. The trees begin to thin, twisting higher and higher starting to form a dome of sharp branches with leaves like loose sewing needles, they begin to grow inwards, shrinking this dome more and more, I start to come back to reality and look around, grogginess overtaking me, and I find myself in a band locker. I stare at my watch. 7:45. Someone is going to be around here soon. 

I attempt to step out but something blocks my path, like a giant castle wall with guards that pledged their whole lives to defend it. I try to talk, but my throat is closed like a drawbridge. I hear footsteps echoing as this tiny locker begins to crumple from all sides, like a piece of paper left in a coat pocket and never taken out. Top. Left. Right. Back. Every time punching further and further into this box, making the door start to swell inwards. My body starts to freeze as I give myself up. My limbs locking and binding together like a petrified mummy. And my mouth feels covered in stitches, sewing it shut. My arms start to tangle together, and at this point, for some reason, I start laughing and I can’t stop. 

My arms and legs move on their own and push against the door of the locker with all of their strength, slamming it open, and I am finally awake. And in the doorway of the band room, I can see Ginny, the band major, wrapped up like one of the mummies we used to make with toilet paper to see which team was the best.

My heart rate slows, I finish giggling, and they finally get enough off of their hand to point. “You’re cleaning all of this up,” she says. Worth it.