I'm sitting down in my homeroom classroom at my elementary school back in West Covina. The desks are set up differently and one classroom is connected to the next door classroom a little differently but I see my old classmates. I'm sitting at a table with one of my Master's classmate but everyone else is my classmate from elementary school.
I tell myself how odd it is that everyone is back and looks exactly the same, a little older, but still looking the same. I'm catching up with people and telling them what a great coincidence it is that we are all in the same class after all these years. I'm surprised people didn't move away or are still in school. I look around and recognize everyone. Everyone's names comes to me as if I had seen them yesterday.
I look over at the next door classroom because the door is open and my homeroom teacher is there. He looks exactly the same as when I last saw him. I can't believe it, he hasn't even aged!
Someone slips me a note and tells me that it's from my old homeroom teacher. He wants to meet with me after school without anyone knowing. Somehow I know that his intentions are more than just catching up about the good old times when I was his student. I feel disgusted and want to tell the director or whoever is in charge of the school but I don't want my old homeroom teacher to get into trouble.
And then... I wake up.
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