Um. That is... There are different ones. And. Sometimes there are shiny not-humans with no expressions on their faces and then I'm being crushed from the inside but the tank is too small and it's going to burst so they put long needles in me and they all stood over me talking but I...

[Her words get faster and faster as she goes, until she puts her hands over her face, making a sound of sheer frustration, mixed with crying.]

But that wasn't all at once. It was. Different ones. And then I woke up here.

[She dabs at her eyes with her hands, trying to clear the blurriness. She'd promised to not be such a crybaby. She's trying hard not to be.]

Do you know a lot about dreams, Spock-sama?