Time: Fall 2017. Hairdo: Preppy Shag
At last! Krislov is gone. Or so I thought. I’m finally settled into my room in Firelands. No one can hurt me here. I sleep. Suddenly, I find myself in Pleasantville, New York. A sign says “Pace University.” Everyone is wearing Sperrys. All the boys are wearing salmon-colored flat-front shorts and polos. I am in Hell. Across the quad, I see Marvin. He looks simply ravishing in his concrete-gray suit. He brushes his bangs out of his face and shoots me a smile that could melt steel. “Hey Liz,” he says. “Didn’t expect to see you here.” I turn and run as fast as I can, but he catches up to me on his Pace-branded segue. “Why don’t you let me show you around a bit? I can take a selfie of us and put it on my Instagram.”, he tells me. I scream, but no words come out. I wake up in a cold sweat. Someone is standing above me. It is the Archangel Gabriel. His body is god-like, but he is wearing Krislov’s head. He has come for me. But I am ready to be taken. I go with him willingly, and finally I awaken. The cycle has been broken.
Time: Spring 2017. Hairdo: Crew Cut
It is the night before Spring Break. I find myself on the ShuttleHome bus alone with the driver. But I don’t see Pennsylvania through the window. I see stars. I’m dreaming. The bus driver turns around. It’s him. The Man Who Announces the Tuition Increases. He stands up, and we walk slowly towards each other. The bus stops. Outside I can see the dark side of the Moon. The bus goes right through the moon, destroying the celestial body and all that it stands for. As we drift through the cosmic dust of the former satellite I feel moisture on my face. The fire sprinklers have come on in Dascomb.
Time: Winter Term 2017. Hairdo: Fuzzy
I had thought my Krislov dream was a one-time thing, a single blissful aberration. But as I slept soundly in my bed at home, Marv chose to visit me yet again. This time we’re in the ‘Sco. He’s dressed in JNCO jeans and a Papa Roach Shirt. I look down and realize that I’m wearing jelly shoes and overalls. It is 2003. As he slowly walks across the room to matchbox twenty’s Unwell I can’t help but notice his full sleeve of tattoos containing the full text of the Oberlin College Charter and Bylaws. I want to ask him to read it to me while I dance, but alas, my alarm goes off. I wake up disheveled. My bed smells of sweat and saliva.
Time: Fall 2016. Hairdo: Bald
This one was my first, and boy, what an awakening it was. One minute I’m climbing into bed in Dascomb 214 at 1am, and the next I’m walking around the Arb with Marv, talking about his time at Oxford and sharing our dreams of what we’ll do once we get out of this godforsaken town. We stare into each other’s eyes, but before I can say anything I wake up. I’ve wet the bed.
Contact contributing writer Liz Frank at firstname.lastname@example.org.