* The Sandman's Dream Journal o/***

I was in a house that was turned into an insurance business, but it was set up like a home, and the owner's family lived in it. The daughter was there, wearing a whitish dress. She was a dirty blond. She was depressed and took a bottle full of lamp oil and started chugging it.

I was the only one who was concerned about her. I told them not to make her vomit, and I would call poison control. I was looking for the number but I couldn't find it. To get the number, I had to go somewhere between exit 9 and exit 14 on Georgia 400. I started to realize that that was too much ground to cover to find a number and started getting nervous because time was of the essence.