“It’s only a nightmare!” I call out in my sleep because I hear Johnny scream. One quick, panicked shout. I blink my eyes open in the dark. Circles of light dart across the walls and floor. The ceiling light turns on. My pupils constrict. My eyes squint. There are people in the room. Half a dozen people. In my daze, I think nonsensically that the janitors are here to take their office back. Then they are on top of me. Three janitors. They throw off my sheet, grab my arms and legs, and roll me on my side. Their faces look both grim and thrilled. My face squashes against a pillow. I spot Rover scrabbling along a baseboard. Across the room, janitors attack Johnny too. He screams bloody murder. One janitor atop him pulls out a curious object—handcuffs. As my arms are wrenched behind my back, I feel pressure on my wrists and hear a click. Janitors have handcuffed me. I go limp, the same as when the boys piled atop me on Halloween. So much for staying strong. Johnny does not go limp. He scissors his legs up and down. With bare feet, he kicks a janitor in the head. Another janitor smacks Johnny hard in the face with the back of his hand. Johnny stops screaming when a janitor snips off a length of duct tape from a roll and sticks it over his mouth.

These janitors, I finally realize, are wearing purple armbands.