Author: AprilRain810@aol.com

I am really a different person. My personality changes dramatically constantly. And my dreams reflect that part of me. Usually (I find this weird), if I eat a half hour before I fall asleep I have the most peculiar dreams ever. And going back on this dream, I can't even begin to know where my brain was or at the least understand what it was trying to tell me, which bothers me to no end. In a way, it was scary, it scared the crap out me, even thinking about creeps me out. I hope you find it interesting, maybe it will freak you a little bit. What's even weirder for me is that this dream was so vivid; I remember so many details that it completely freaks me out. So here is the dream.

It started with a man and I; a man I knew well, and though I don't know him in reality, in the dream he seemed to be someone I cared for deeply. We'll call him Jon.

We were walking on the sidewalk down many different streets, and I figured we were bound to get lost sometime soon. We stopped in front of a large house in desperate need of remodeling.

As soon as we stopped walking, the sky turned a terrible mixture of black and dark purples. It seemed a thunderstorm was brewing, but nothing came.

Soon, a nasty-looking man came outside and invited us in. Something inside of me told me to stay where I was, so I remained outside while Jon followed the old man in.

Jon came to the screen door and yelled for me to come in. He did this several times, and then the other man joined in, but their voices were completely gone. I could still see their lips moving, calling out, "April!" It seemed as though not only could they not hear me, but that they couldn't see me either.

This is when I began to freak out completely.

A chill ran up my spine like someone took a cold, wet finger and ran it right up the middle of my back. I turned and ran for my life, sensing that John and the man were following me.

Suddenly I reached the top of a giant hill, and looking down the side of it was like looking down a canyon. From where I was standing, the road dipped down into the canyon and then back up the other side of the hill to form a giant "U", and houses were lined up along the street. In the middle of the "U" was a giant treehouse complete with swings and slides.

I started running towards it, trying to hide from Jon and the nasty man. I climbed up the ladder into the treehouse and a little boy was sitting there painting.

I said, "Hi."
He looked at me and stared.

His facial expression was extremely disturbing; his eyes almost seemed to burn into my head as if he were reading my thoughts.

I quickly climbed down another ladder and ran toward the street, turning to look up at the hill that I had just descended. The trees in the area of the "U" were tumbling down one after another. The sky was still that penetrating color and seemed to engulf me with sadness. It seemed like the whole world was dying.

My house was across the street from the treehouse, so I ran to it, trying to open the door. It would not budge, but I gave it all my strength and it finally pushed open.

I found my son Tristin's toys sitting behind the door, as if to barricade it, and I ran through the house calling for the children. I finally found them and told them to get into Daddy's old car, which was out on the porch.

We stood there for a few seconds and then we were suddenly in my parents' house. The two boys (one was my son and I have no idea who the other one was) started down the stairs into my parents' basement and I followed behind them.

Suddenly a teenage boy, I'll call him Tom, came out of nowhere carrying a large gasoline can.

We ran upstairs into the kitchen area, and I screamed to the children to run away. I stood there and watched Tom climb up the stairs with the gasoline can. Maggots began oozing out of the can and falling to the floor. There were millions of them, covered in slime and gas.

I turned away, running into the great room and onto the deck. I then reached into the pockets of my leather coat, looking for my cigarettes.
They weren't there.

I turned and ran back into the kitchen where I found Tom sprinkling gas all over the floor. I knew that I had just bought a carton that day and that they were laying on top of the shelf in the kitchen. I just had to have my smokes.

Tom was kneeling on the ground and looked up at me, smiling an evil, possessed grin. He pulled out a pack of matches, and in slow motion he lit the match, then lowered his wrist to the puddle of lizuid, allowing the flame to explode across the floor.
He laughed.

I ran through the flames, grabbed the carton, and ran out to the deck, but somehow I was on the front porch. The children were already waiting in the car, which was extremely old but looked brand new and was hanging on the three stairs, kind of slanted.

I climbed into the car quickly on the passenger's side and put the car in neutral. I turned the ignition but it would turn over at all. The car was sliding slowly down the three stairs.
Gliding.

The men were trying to catch up with the car, and finally the engine turned over and we pulled out off the lawn.

We were on 585 driving extremely fast, and suddenly I wasn't driving anymore. Another woman was sitting on the correct side of the car (I had been in the passenger side), and there were two different boys in the back seat now; one was Tristen except older, and once again I don't know who the other one was. I was chainsmoking, lighting cigarettes off of one another.

We finally reached a gas station which the woman pulled into because someone had to use the bathroom, I think the woman who was driving.

She started getting out of the car as I watched her, but suddenly I was her, and everything she did I was through her eyes. I used the restroom, and coming back out, a man in an old beat up truck told me that I was hot. I went over to him and started yelling at him and telling him off.

Suddenly I was back in the car watching this woman yell at the man for talking so badly to a woman.

Another man started to walk towards the car and the boy in the back seat told me,
"Get the gun! Get the gun!"

The gun was laying on the floor under the woman's seat and I grabbed it. The man came over to the driver's side door and started saying obscene things to me. He went to reach for the gun in his pants, but I was too quick for him and shot him in the forhead. He looked stunned for a moment, but then he started laughing at me.
It was a BB gun.

I started shoooting him again and again until he passed out, which took about thirteen or fourteen shots. I grabbed his gun when it fell through the open window.

The woman came over to the car and said I did a great job shooting him.

Then I woke up.