Dear diary,

It's me again – Frankie. Your god.

How are you? I did drop you last week in a public toilet, so it can't hurt to ask.

Anyway – you know when you have one of those really strange and immersive dreams? You wake up and think that it's still a dream?

Yeah, about that. See I think I'm having one of those right now.

Except I can't seem to wake up.

I bet you are confused? Well let me paint you a picture to better understand my current predicament!

At first, the smell of garbage is hardly anything new – my cat pukes sometimes in the night and the smell it leaves could curdle milk for sure. But then I feel something lumpy underneath me, and that's certainly new. I don't recall my bed ever being uncomfortable – quite the opposite actually, since it is the only item in my apartment that I splurged on. I feel around with my hands in the dark, encountering more lumps and plastic bits.

What the actual heck?

Finally, I decide to open my eyes to find out what is going on – this is surely the strangest dream I've had in a while.

I immediately regret it. Standing not two feet away is what appears to be a homeless man wearing a ratty old bathrobe and slippers and he is staring at me with a crazed glare. He kind of reminds me of Gandalf. He also appears to be stroking a toaster in his arms like it is a cat or dog – it is neither.

"Uhm..." I say intelligently, and as I shift my body I look down and realize why its so lumpy.

It is a pile of garbage.

I am lying on a pile of garbage.

If this is a subconscious metaphor, I swear to god…

"Okay, ew..." I mutter as I gingerly get off the pile and dust off my spongebob pajama bottoms. Then homeless Gandalf suddenly deigns to speak to me. I feel honored.

"That's my sleeping spot." he grumbles. The toaster in his arms seems to agree.

"Huh? No it isn't – this is my apartment you asshole!"

But as I say it, I realize with a start that I am no longer in my apartment. I am in fact in a small alleyway, cornered by dumpsters and more piles of garbage.

"Okay. It's fine. It's still a dream." I say to myself as I walk away from the alley and out into what appears to be a regular street in a very regular town. Perfectly safe and harmless. I breath out a small sigh of relief as I keep walking down the street – it appears to be nighttime, and no people are around.

I wring my hands together and start to feel calmer. God, what was I so upset about anyway? I'm prone to have immersive dreams, much stranger than this one even. Yes, everything is going to be just fine. I see a bench and decide to sit down there and close my eyes, so that I can finally wake up.

Just as I have shut my eyes, I hear footsteps coming my way.

"That's nothing." I say to myself, and I believe it.

The footsteps get louder, and seem to come closer. Then I hear the sniggering/snarling? Of two men.

"Look at this Mike, now isn't this just too easy?"

"Should we make her run for it? It doesn't taste half as good when they don't panic."

I sigh and decide to address these imaginary figures, my eyes still closed.

"Look guys, you've come too late to the party. I'm going to be waking up in a minute."

It's quiet for a moment before one of them speaks again.

"She's drunk isn't she?"

I huff with irritation and open my eyes to look at them. Two young guys stand there with odd demonic facial features and yellow eyes – strangest of all, the look is kind of familiar.

"I'm not drunk. Is this going to be a nightmare now? Is that why you two look like that? I thought my subconscious was more jaded to know that this doesn't really scare me. "

"You're right about one thing – this is a nightmare."

"Oh great. Then lets get it over with."

"Huh?"

"I don't know – do your scary thing and let me wake up. "

"She's mental..."

"But crazies often taste better don't they?"

"That's true."

What shocks me now is not the fact that one of them grabs me with brute force, or that he bites my neck. But what does is the acute feeling of pain that comes when he does. Like – real honest to god pain.

"Okay that – OW! - really hurts! Hey stop it!"

Now I'm not some karate expert or anything, but I know for a fact that no man – demon or not, likes to be kicked in the crotch. And I never do anything half-assed and sloppy, I let my left leg swing back for momentum before it lands with a crack between the guy's spread legs. Upon impact, the guy/demon lets out a shrill howl, letting go of my shoulders to fall back on the ground, hands clutching his package. The other guy behind him stares with his mouth wide open and hello more sharp teeth.

As the demon on the ground still moans in pain me and the other fellow stare at each other for a short beat in total confusion before I realize that this would be a good time to run.

And as I run for dear life I realize that this – all this might actually not be a dream after all.

As in, this is actually happening.

I continue running down the street with the demon guy gaining on me quickly and yet I stop completely in my tracks when I spot a sign in one of the shops that line the street. It's really not that remarkable or special, the font a hysterically ugly comic sans.

Sunnydale Bakery

And yet, the name of the town sounds awfully familiar. Have I been here before? I'm so caught up in trying to remember that I completely forget about the guy chasing me, and so I jump half a mile when he suddenly appears next to me.

But instead of attacking me, he is looking at the bakery window with a fond look on his twisted face.

"Have you ever been there? Man, their hot buns are the best – when I was still alive I could have lived off those things!"

Now that's a sentence that needs untangling.

"Excuse moi? Aren't you alive now?" I ask, with my neck bleeding profusely. The guy (btw he is sporting the ugliest blonde mullet you ever saw) gives me a grave look.

"Normal people don't exactly go around eating other people."

"So you're like what – a vampire?" I ask sarcastically, because that's just ridi-

Hold on a minute.

Sunnydale + vampires.

I start to sweat for no reason at all, now clutching a hand to my neck as I stare at the demon guy, wondering if it would be smart to ask. If it is plain insane to even consider that this is the reality I've somehow walked into.

"Ever heard about...the slayer?"

The vampire flinches at the mere mention of the title, and I realize that yes, either I've gone completely crazy or I have in fact stepped through the twilight zone.

"T-the slayer isn't here right now to protect you."

He's right about that. But it is also obvious that this guy is so afraid of her he might pee his pants any minute. So I put on a brave face and pretend like she's just coming around the corner.

"That may be true, but when she finds out I'm dead, you are going to be so screwed. "

This time, I'm lucky.

The guy flinches back and stares around in acute paranoia, a bead of sweat rolling down his face before uttering a small yelp. Then he quickly runs off, not looking back.

I somehow manage to drag myself (okay dramatic much?) to the local emergency room. It doesn't occur to me until after they've patched me up that I don't have any social security number or means of identification. When I first came in, the nurse didn't make me fill out any forms due to her sudden exclamation of "that dam has got to be stopped!" referring to my bleeding neck.

I was hoping that they would continue on forgetting it but nope – no such luck. Afterwards the same nurse comes back and hands me the forms with a patient smile on her face. I smile back, my mind whirling with possible escape routes through the nearest window.

But then I realize that I must be an idiot, or the nurse is- because she just left me alone to fill out the form.

So for the second time for the night I make a quick escape and saunter out the front door of the hospital like I don't have a huge bandage attached to my throat and feel about as dizzy as a top.

I wander a few blocks away and come upon an empty playground. I sit down on a rocking horse and try to make the world stop spinning as I try to figure out what to do next. But as it is, I'm too exhausted to think, and too dizzy to stand so I decide to find a relatively safe spot to lie down and rest for a bit.

But still, I try in vain to walk for a bit and eventually I stumble into a patch of grass and bushes, and there I fall into an awkward heap to the ground, sheltered by rough branches and soft grass.

The first thing I am aware of upon wakening is the multitude of voices laughing and talking. Gee, I'm hearing things now? Great.

I groan and slowly open my eyes, and realize that it is now morning – the sun is shining, birds are singing and my head feels like hell. I sit up and again hear a lot of voices but since I'm still neatly hidden by the bushes I can't see where it comes from.

When I stand up and brush off my pajamas from grass stains and dirt, I almost gulp at what I see.

Just up ahead, across the street from the tiny spot of greenery I crashed in, is Sunnydale Highschool.