Go to the University library.

Classes seem to drag more than normal today. Watching the clocks like a hawk, the minute hand drags across the face like a swimmer through molasses. You don't even attempt to pay attention, absently looking back and forth from clock to almost empty page, the barest of notes taken.

When your last professor of the day dismisses you, you're the first out of the room, pushing through the other students in the hallway until you make it outdoors. From there, the library is about half a mile away, past the sports field and the main administration building. Jogging, you're able to make it in just under four minutes, arriving slightly out of breath but determined to start your search. Hopefully, somewhere inside this building are the answers that'll help you understand why you're having such crazy dreams about your sister and mother.

Inside, you pause to adjust your bearings. You've been here a few times in the past year, gathering research for assignments and papers, but you don't live here like some students do. The library is split into sections, with separate rooms dedicated to certain topics...you just need to find the right one. You spy an open computer and, using the search function, discover that most books regarding dreams are going to be in the psychology section on the second floor. You write down a couple of likely texts and their reference numbers and make your way upstairs.

When you get there, the entire room seems empty. It's so dead, you can't even hear any movement coming from the stacks. Your shoes squeak loudly as your slide between the shelves, following the numbers written on the sides of the books until you find the proper area. You read through the titles, looking for the books you'd written down but for some reason, you can't find them. You double check your notes and go item by item but they're just not there. Would someone have moved them for some reason...?

"Hi, can I help you find something?" a voice asks out of nowhere. You let out a noise that sounds suspiciously like a very unmanly scream and jerk around abruptly. Your heart is pounding so hard you wonder if a heart attack is eminent.

Standing behind you is a young woman, who doesn't stand taller than 5'4." She's cute, with unbound dark hair and soulful brown eyes, and she's wearing a floral sundress that compliments her light brown skin. Her complexion, combined with the turquoise bracelet encircling her wrist, makes you think she's got Native American blood somewhere in her ancestry. She's smiling widely, amused at your reaction, well aware that she scared the shit out of you.

"Where'd you come from?" you ask, looking around at the otherwise empty room.

"Oh, around," she replies, not willing to give you an inch. Then she sticks out her hand. "My name is Asgitsa. What's yours?"

You shake her hand and introduce yourself. Her grip is firm and confident. She also has an energy that exudes from her every action, and you can't help but be drawn to her. She's not the most beautiful girl you've ever met--you usually prefer girls with a bit more curves than her sundress covers--but you can't deny the almost instant attraction you feel towards her. She just makes you feel...fulfilled.

She notes the section you're standing. "Ah, interested in dreams, I see. A complex subject, even for a Psych major like me. Why are you interested?"

You mind races for an answer. You're certainly not going to tell this girl that you just met that you're having erotic dreams where you get jerked off by your sister and titfuck your mother. So you decide to skirt the truth.

"I've just become interested in dreams recently and I'm really curious as to where they come from, why we have them...that sort of thing." It sounds stupid when you say it out loud.

But Asgitsa just nods her head and steps closer to the books, looking at them closely. This also brings her a step closer to you and you find yourself leaning slightly toward her. "Well, if you believe my grandmother, dreams are sent by the gods to direct us on our life's true path. At least, if we are able to interpret and understand them correctly."

"Gods?" you say, voice rife with disbelief.

"Absolutely," she says with conviction. You can't tell if she's messing with you or not. "How else do you explain the impossibilities that occur within dreams, the prophetic nature of dreams? If they were solely a human construct, they'd be much more boring. At least, that's according to my grandmother."

She pulls out a couple of books and hands them to you. "Here, these were helpful to me when I was taking my abnormal psych class. Perhaps, they'll be useful to you as well."

You thank her profusely and she looks at you with an open gaze, her dark eyes captivating you, making your knees weak. Before you can think better, you say, "Hey, would you like to go out some time...maybe dinner and a movie?"

Her smooth, unblemished cheeks lift when she smiles. "I'd like that, but I'm going to have to give you a delayed yes. The timing isn't right. Ask me again the next time you see me, okay?"

As your mind tries to parse her answer, she gives you a little wave and then heads down the aisle toward the entrance, her shoes not making any more sound this time than before. What an odd but utterly alluring girl. You think you just got a date with her too...maybe. Books in hand, you head home.

Three hours later, your eyes are starting to swim from reading. Dreams are way more complicated than you realized. Apparently, dreams aren't necessarily manifestations of your **** desires--you may well have secret incestuous thoughts, but they're not the cause of your dreams. In fact, nobody really know why we dream or what their purpose is. Oh, academics argue back and forth but nothing has been conclusively proven. By the time you're ready for bed, you're no closer to understanding your dreams than you were this morning. Honestly, Asgitsa's theory regarding the gods isn't sounding so far-fetched anymore.

You turn off the lights, set the books to the side and lay your head against your pillow...and you're back in the hallway, just like before.