Dream (nightmare?) Friday, July 25th 2014
I woke up this morning slowly. I’d had a wicked dream. I got up and went downstairs to get my clean clothes, and passed my housemate whom asked me if I was up till 3 am. “No,” I replied. “I was in bed by midnight.”
It was there that she informed me that I was talking in my sleep. It sounded like I was having a conversation with someone on the phone. She’d gotten up in the wee hours of the morning to use the bathroom when she heard me. She came to my door to see if the light was on, and they were off at the time.
"I was not awake, but I certainly had a wild dream…."
It went like this.
I was living with my father, step mother, and two sisters. We were enjoying the evening, sitting in lawn chairs in the front garage. (We had an extra garage in the back yard, but that was for the boat and snowmobiles.) Dad was grilling, the girls were tanning, and step mom was cutting one of my sister’s hair or something.
For some reason I was in the driver’s side of dad’s brand new Monte Carlo, fixing something that had to do with the wires… I’m the mechanic’s daughter, after all. (I guess)
Some background, my father was complaining about a guy that lived in the neighborhood that was an absolute MENACE. He said he was some kind of criminal, but the reports is, he’d somehow wire large fireworks to just explode in people’s yards. damaging cars and got knows what else. Not just go up and explode, no, just plain explode. They’d stay put. And explode. My father was always talking about killing this man. If there was one more explosion, he was surely going to shoot him. (in real life my father says things like these sometimes, and you can never really tell if he’s kidding, depending on the situation, but either way, you know there’s going to be a fight)
SO. This day, we’re relaxing, I can smell the grill, and the sun was out, it was a good day, but you could also smell the humidity in the air. It would rain tonight.
That’s when we heard a deafening explosion. RIGHT down the street from us. I looked up in time to see what looked like a large mass the size of a beach ball come HURLING in our direction. It hit the windshield of the car and the water that came from it, knocked my sisters off their chairs/feet, as well as step mom and my dad.
Dad shakes his head slowly and stands up, and gets his 30-30 shotgun off the shelf and loads it. He stars walking down the street to where a truck was parked.
I watch in horror as the form of the crazy guy comes out carrying what looked like a .9 mil.
He aims it at dad and starts walking.
For some reason dad’s gun wont fire. He pulls the trigger several times, but nothing happens. They come to stand rather close to one another, and dad, who is inspecting his gun in a rage, gets off a shot. Sadly, he wasn’t actually aiming at the time and only manages to get the man in the leg. This only causes the man pain and pisses him off. He takes aim, and fires.
This is where I get up.
I’m amazingly calm when these things happen in my dreams. Amazingly calm when I know. I’m going to kill someone. I told my sisters to tell me where the gun safe was and what the combo was. (in real life it seems to be in a different location every time I visit them)
They lead me inside, and I can just FEEL the crazy guy getting closer to the house.
We open the safe, and pick out our guns. I wasn’t too particular. I just grabbed a shotgun, loaded it and was ready before my sisters. I turned around and he was RIGHT there. RIGHT in front of me. The barrel of his gun between my eyes. I just stared into his eyes. they were bright brilliant blue. And from the place at my hip, I pulled the trigger, and remembering the center of his face was torn to shreds by the blast.
Montage later… the media got a hold of it. “Young woman kills her father’s killer in home in front of sisters.” They took me in for interviews, for some reason I agreed and described the horror that happened that day.
I was sitting on a chair… my leg draped over the arm rest as I slouched, watching my own interview on the tv. Watching the tears run down my face as I remembered those blue eyes.
I remember watching this interview as it proceeded, and glanced up at the doorway to my right.
And he was there. Standing RIGHT there. HIM. They guy I KILLED. Standing, and looking at me. I had no words! Just internal panic!! All I had on me was a knife! Bu the just watched me. Then looked at the tv, and invited himself in to sit in the chair to my left, and drape his elbow onto my leg as it was on the arm rest, and lean on it like nothing had ever happened! HE WAS DEAD. but he looked perfectly fine!!
Again, I seem externally extremely calm about all of this.
My current housemate suddenly walked in. I suppose she was going to help me move… but she could see him too! She looked at him, then at me. Her face definitely read, “DIDN’T YOU KILL THIS MAN??”
and my eyes pleaded with her, “I THOUGHT I KILLED HIM.”
I looked to him as he resumed watching the interview, and he leaned over to me, with a glance and said, “You did good…”