Imprisoned,Talking Head, In Bad Grace and Shedding

I was with a group of other people that were living together. We were not actually imprisoned physically but it was known that we were not free to do what we wanted to. I was on a laptop computer playing with some photos and videos and was running off of my own power source. I was sitting at a small table or breakfast bar. A gathering of people came into the room and it was said that some other people were killed. I heard someone say something about how that affected us but did not hear it completely and spoke up for clarification and as I had felt it was general opinion that it meant that “they” could not let us go.

Not long after this conversation a teenage boy asked me if I was able to get any photos that I liked from the last batch that I had gotten and I told him I had gotten five out of it and that I would show them to him if he wanted to come over. He came by the table and I started to show him and another lady that had stepped over. I could not find the pictures so I was fumbling around looking for them. The next that I know the light was turned off in the room.

Next there was a bus of people going to another location which was a ladies home where she used to live. Not everyone went. There were about 8 of us. On the ride the driver was talking to a head. It was a head with the brain showing and was in a box and a small amount of liquid, not enough liquid to cover the head just a small amount. The head was clearly living and the two were having a friendly conversation broken often with laughter. I happened to be carrying a metal rod and I placed it into the box. I thought to myself it was a good thing I didn't hit the head.

Not too far down the road the bus door opened and I was asked to get out which I did. The driver that somehow I felt like it was my father told me to take off. The bus started off and I held on to the door and was going along for the ride. The bus stopped and I explained that I was not trying to be hard or mean but that I just wanted to be told why and the action explained.

The next thing I know we were at the house and different people were rummaging through various parts of the living room. My mother was looking through a stack of mail that was on an ottoman. I started to look at the mail as well and my mother told me to get on along. She walked away toward a breakfast bar and I was asking her why she had said what she said. She told me to move away and that I was shedding.I was very hurt and told her that she was shedding too.I could see on her forehead that she had white splotches of flaking skin. I pointed out to her what I could see and quite forcefully explained to her that she was just a normal person, that she was flaking also and that she needed to get off of her high horse. I could see that I was angering her and she did not like hearing the truth.