Screaming or howling

<PERSON> Vivid I am in a hall in school. There is a piano on the side, which I go over to, sit down, and happily start playing. It is difficult to play though, it is very small and the keys are not in order. My physics teacher comes over and smirks. "Holy shit..." he says. "That is fucked up." I continue trying to place the keys in the right postions. He reaches out and grabs the top of the piano. "What are you doing?" I ask, growing increasingly worried. He begins to crush the piano with his hands. I jump up and scream at him, trying to push him off. After a lot of effort, I shove him away and turn towards the piano. It is broken, bits of wood lying all over the floor. Tears well up in my eyes, and I shove him once more, then run down a flight of stairs, crying. He runs after me but I just run faster, until I am outside and running down a hill. My english teacher is walking up the hill. She stops me and asks in a kind voice what is wrong. I slowly tell her about the piano, and how it is making me feel depressed for some reason. She squeezes my shoulder and says she will speak to my physics teacher, and that it is ok for me to be out of school right now. I walk down the hill and into a forest. As I walk, I see faces in the trees. They whisper to me, but I do not know what they are saying. I get to a sunken well. There are more faces in the well, with pale blue skin and gaping mouths. Their hands reach for me. The trees are moving closer. I jump to avoid their hands, but eventually they get me and pull me into the stone well. I wake up in a victorian style house. Getting up, I notice a young man in the room, standing in front of a floor length mirror, studying himself. "Sister," he says, sounding oddly monotone. "Your company is requested by the mistress before we leave." "Leave?" "Have you forgotten already?" He asks, straightening his suit. "Our brothers funeral, the one you killed." It flashes into my mind. Me, running across rooftops, my brother after me, an explosion, panic everywhere... "I remember... I will go see the mistress." I go into a dimly lit basement. An old hag of a woman grabs my hair and uses it to drag me to a stool facing a mirror. I cry out. "You think you can get away with this, m'girl? hm? I must cut your hair off. You do not control your hair, it controls you! You are grieving! You will never have hair again!" She grabs a razor. I notice that my hair is not it is usual dark brown, but a pale blonde with bits of auburn in it. It is very pretty. I smile at it, but it dawns on me that my the mistress is holding up the razor. My face drops as she takes it to the side of my head and drags it upwards, leaving no hair in its place.