Interpret my dream please. This was a really weird one. Haha.
It was a gloomy day. I could see rain in the distance, dropping into the ocean as I stood on a tall (very tall, like 200 feet) balcony overlooking the sea. Suddenly all sorts of cop cars came screeching onto the street below and rushed the building where my family was staying.
Moments later I was standing on the street, watching the doors, waiting for those inside to emerge. How I got down, I don’t know. But out came my three sisters in handcuffs, struggling against the aggressive cops.
Next I was in the jailhouse visiting them, asking what they had done. My older sister, Tomi Ann, had murdered a local dodge ball coach. Her weapon of choice, a kitchen hand blender. Amy, my next younger sister, had murdered a seventeen year old boy with an old rusty ice skate. Her motive: he was weird looking. My next younger sister Emily had murdered the guy who checks tickets on the train. I don’t remember her murder weapon, but she told me she had to do it. If she didn’t, there would be no family left.
I was enraged. I got mad and started yelling and screaming that they had ruined their lives and their children’s lives. They laughed and laughed and said that I could never understand because I was too involved with my own child and my own life.
I took Emily by the shoulders and shook her. “You were better than this. You were better than this.”
Suddenly, all three of them became cardboard cut-outs, nothing more. The room wasn’t even real. The door opened and a strange man walked in.
“Surprised to see me?” he asked. I was suddenly filled with terror. He grabbed my arms, pressed his knee into my legs to make me collapse, and pushed me to the floor while he cuffed my hands behind my back.
“Your sisters will be happy to know that you confessed,” he said.
“Confessed to what?!” I screamed.
CONTINUED ON NEXT PAGE