Evette rubbed the bridge of her nose between her eyes as a third figment approached her. She worried that beating one to death would shock her awake, so she just sucked it up and put up with the constant pounding of voices. Please don't talk. Please don't talk. Please go away and disappear.

[b]"If you think this is a dream, how about trying to make believe all us to go away? Surely we're nothing but white noise to you."[/b]

He spoke to her. Dammit. She opened her eyes to look at him, attempting to channel all the murderous intent she could muster into one uncaring look. He was just a kid. She wished he would disappear. The figment said his name to another figment. He was called Adam Smith. Evette was disappointed in her own mind for coming up with such a crappy name. Seriously, Adam Smith was the best her subconscious could come up with?

"You are exactly as white noise is. I would wave my hand and kill you and each and every one of these figments, but I am no lucid dreamer. I can't control what happens inside my dream. I can choose freely when to end this dream, but this place is preferable to the usual nightly hell I find myself trapped in." Evette's eyes shifted over to where the rodent was speaking to a girlish-boyish anorexic emo. "Oh great, the figments, they're multiplying." She couldn't hear what either was saying from where she stood, but for some reason she felt she should go over and kick that bunny in the face. Ignoring the boy figment and the officer figment, Evette stopped leaning on the giant tree's root and began to walk over to the rabbit.