I'm in an upstairs balcony hall above a gym where basketball is being played. I crawl out of a small rowboat onto the hall floor. We'd just gone through some crisis and everyone is responding to panic in their own unique way. My way was to drop my scrapbook that has past memorabilia in it. I then must pick it up, but I can't seem to get it together. The pages slip out of my grasp, things fall out. My mother says, "Leave it there, come on." I snap back, "No! I can do it. I want it." I continue struggling until I gather it up. I stand and look down at the gym floor. I see Darryl in a black leather jacket with his arm around a girl. I feel sad. I walk on. I go now to the upstairs penthouse apartments where my parents stayed the night. I want to see these posh rooms. I go in and see strangers there, packing up their bags. I see my mother and ask her if they had to share the rooms. She said, "Yes." I'm in a kitchen room and see two rooms that could be bedrooms and ask my mother which one she and my father slept in. She's harried and doesn't respond. I keep asking questions and it bothers her. She's angry at me. She turns and says, "You are not beautiful." I am very hurt and shocked. She continues, "You're not ugly, but you just aren't beautiful." She also tells me other things she doesn't like about me. In fact, she always pretended to like me more than she really does because she always believed you should equally love your kids; but the truth is, she never really liked me. I look at the view from one of the rooms.