Santiago threw open the door hard enough to make it bang on the wall.  He didn't see any point to closing it as he couldn't really care less to whom everything within belonged to and would've rushed straight off if not for the strange thump on the other side of the door.  It sounded like a little booklet hitting the wooden floor.  He stopped, momentarily confused, and moved the door a little to look at see what was behind it. On the wall there was one of those pocket things you tapped to flat surfaces because it was easier than using a filing system.  It had been knocked askew thanks to the wall not moving out of the way when it came around.  On the floor just under it was a yellow packed marked with his name on it.  He could tell it was important thanks to all the exclamation marks after it, and then under that in darker letters it said, and this is a direct quote "Your dogs are fine.  Promise.  Nothings going to happen to them.  However if you just go about running around like an idiot and get yourself killed you won't see them again."  

"Hmm."  Santiago rubbed his chin, and tried to pluck a hair from his chin that was always there.  None were there.  "Maybe their thinking of a different Santiago."  He opened the packet and there was a picture of himself, the old one, before this morning, and under that there were a couple of his dogs.  "Aww this is a good one."  His eye twitched in that familiar way it did when danger was nearby or someone he owed money to had found him in their cross-hares.  "Hey, I don't remember taking these pictures!  Damn creeps, stalking the babies and me."  He shook his head while taking a better look at the pictures.  He turned one this way and then the other that way.  He tried it again but with keeping the pictures still as he moved his head about. "How'd you get them to sit still like that and look at the camera?"  He slumped a little a put the photos in his pocket for when he'd inevitably start missing them.  "Two hour long walks and I couldn't ever get them tired enough for a picture like that."

something slipped out of the yellow packet and it the floor so lightly you could only be sure it happened because of the gentle gust of air he felt on the tiny area of his ankle that was open to such things.  "Hmm?"  He looked down at what was apparently the last sheet in the packet.  A moment to verify proved this was the case.  He picked it up and read it out loud because doing so quietly would end up with a completely different message thanks to all the ideas bouncing frantically around behind his eyes.  "Dear Santiago."  He mumbled, and then skimmed through the rest of the letter because he couldn't bring himself to say what he read out loud.  Done, he through the packet and the letter in the room he came out of and closed the door just in case the stuff inside was his own. 

"So there's others here in the same situation as me, huh?"  He swallowed.  "So, I'm in a group, at school."  He looked down morosely at his feet, covered in leather he wouldn't waste money on back when he was stuck with the sickly thin wallet he hated pulling cash out of because it always felt like pulling innards out of a corpse that really wasn't much more than bone and some stubborn sinew.  "God damn it.  Well, there's no time like the present, right?  Well I guess the past and the future are pretty similar to the present."  He said, walking and wondering how'd he'd be able to tell if he met someone like him.  "Their just not here at the moment."

He walked for a bit before seeing someone pale with a slightly freaked look in their face, the kind of look you'd get with someone that just learned about what sex was after walking in on their parents in the process of procreation and standing there, staring till the whole haunting ordeal came to an end.  "Hey," he said as the pale guy hurried past him.  "By any chance are were you in a real world just last night?"