IF MYPRICIPLETRIEDTOKILLME

Dream Journal Entry
Date: Sometime, 2007
Type: Acid Trip
Place: My High School

IF MY PRINCIPLE DECIDED TO KILL ME AND HAD A SHARPENED HOCKEY STICK


It was a normal day at high school. I was walking down the hallway of the third floor with books in my hands heading to class. As I reach for the door handle suddenly no one else is in the hallway. Okay, fine, I tell myself, the bell’s about to ring anyway. I grab the door handle and jiggle only to discover that it won’t open. Not uncommon, it’s happened once or twice where the door gets jammed. I knock on the glass part of the window and look eagerly for one of my friends. Everyone in the room looks at me then back at their notebooks, even the two close friends that I spend 1st period with everyday. Rude, I though. I knock again. This time they don’t even look up.

Wow, is this a joke?

I turn around to head down the hallway to the second door to the room when I spot my principal standing eerily by the window. After an awkward second I see that she is dressed like the Grim Reaper with a black cape (hood up), black pants, but instead of a sickle she is sporting a sharpened plastic hockey stick from the gym. It was like a bad scream movie, minus the mask.

This must be a joke….is there an assembly today about drinking and driving? No. What the hell?

“Hi, Sister.” I say politely as I jiggle the handle to the other door and try to act natural. This door is jammed too. I peer into the class room with one hand cupped over my eyes. The teacher has started teaching.

Damn, I’m late for class.

I knock on the door only to be ignored by 25 of my classmates.  This was ridiculous. I looked up to ask Sister for help and discover that she is not there anymore. Suddenly I hear breathing behind me. I spin around and yelp as I find the tall skinny figure of my principle looming over me. I bent down to pick up my books and said, “Sorry, Sister, you scared me.”
“I’m going to sell your Liver.” She hisses.
I look up at her, confused and unsure if I heard right, “What?”
“I’m going to cut you open and sell your organs on the black market!” She lifts her hockey stick.
I blink.
She stares.
I blink again.
“Okaaaayy….” I pick up my books and knock on the window again. Nothing. Suddenly she swings the stick in my direction. I drop all my books again and scream “HOLY CRAP!” I bolt down the hallway knocking on all of the doors along the way yelling that Sister has gone mad and wants to sell our kidneys. No one pays attention and I run down to the second floor. I start pounding on the doors there with no success. “Why isn’t anyone listening to me!” I scream. Finally, I get to the last door on the floor and start banging again. This one flies open with the weight of my fists. I run into the room and start yelling at the class to get out. Of course, it was a freshman class and they all just looked at me with wide eyes.
Then Sister appeared in the door way then with sickle…ahem…hockey stick in hand flanked by my history teacher (about 6’7’ with unusually light, wispy hair) and the janitor (easily mistaken for a lumberjack).
“Come on Marie, what crazy stories are you weaving for these poor freshmen? That’s not very nice, I think you should come to my office.” She coos.
I grab at my hair and make an exasperated noise, “That’s not true! You were SOOO going to sell my kidneys on the black market!”
“Do you have any proof? You’ve clearly disturbed classes and are in urgent need of medical assistance. Mr. {history teacher}, {Janitor} please escort her to my office.” The two men step forward.
I make another exasperated yell, try to get the freshman to save themselves and throw a stapler at my history teacher (this is funny because he always keeps at least 6….ligit no exaggeration…staplers on his desk at all times because people always steal them). Whether or not the freshman’s blank stares was because they thought I’d gone insane, some subconscious exclamation that no one pays attention to me, or because that seems to be the only look that the freshman at my school have when they are not making out with their private schooled pre-teen boyfriends I don’t know, but the fact of the matter is, not one person cared that they were pigs for the slaughter. So what was the logical thing I did while cornered with only a bunch of dazed freshmen at my side? I jumped out the second story window. Yes.
I landed unrealistically unharmed on the grass and bolted away from the building towards the hockey field as my principle glared through the window pane. As I’m running I stumble over a goose and fall smack into a big pile of goose crap.  Yummy. That apparently gave me an idea because I suddenly got up and looked at the gaggle of Canadian geese on the field and yelled, “GEESE! YOU HAVE TO HELP ME! MY PRINCIPLE IS TRYING TO SELL MY KIDNEYS!”
All at once their heads snap towards me and in a B movie cinematic moment their eyes narrow in unison and the Kung Fu “WHOOOOIIIIIYAAAAA” and kicking motion sound plays in the back ground. Then one goose, the King of the Geese if you will, comes up to me and bows the best a Chinese Canadian Goose can. Interesting.
I turn around to see my principle leading an army of teachers dressed in cheap Kung Fu Halloween costumes through the single door into the High School building. The file up beside her. My army of Kung Fu Geese lines up beside me with King Goose at my side. Suddenly all of my geese are wearing sweat bands with a Chinese symble on them.
“Leave our kidneys alone!” I yell at her.
“Give up, you wont win!” Sister yells waving her sic…hockey stick.
“ WE NEED OUR KIDNEYS!”
“HOOOONNK!” King Goose says.
“GIVE UP!” She yells again
“NEVER!”
“HOOOOONNNNKK!”
“Why are you doing this? Don’t we pay enough tuition, I mean $10,000 for KINDERGARDEN??!”
“HONK.” King Goose agrees.
“I WANT YOUR LIVER!”
“HONK?” King Goose asks
“What? No, not you.”
“Honk.”
“What?”
“Honk.”
“Oh. No I don’t think so.”
“Honk.”
“No.”
“Honk”
“Alright fine.”
“Heeeaaaa.” King Goose squeals.
“Anyway!......where was I? Oh yes, ahem, ATTACCCKKKK!!!”
The geese and the teacher leap into the air in dramatic Kung Fu poses. Geese with their feet extended, wings bent like arms in dragon meeting dog stances or whatever and teachers with strangely light wispy hair bellowing in the non existent wind.  They get closer and closer in perfect non moving slow motion Kung Fu approaching the epic clash when…… “IIII’MM BRINGGIN’ SEXY BACCKK! YEEEAAAA!”….my alarm goes off and I’ve got Justin Timberlake screaming at me to get up and go to school. I love my dreams, but, I NEVER sleep long enough to find out what happens. Idk about you but I was betting on the Geese, even though two to three times a day I find myself scraping their crap off my shoes.