It’s 5:17 AM and I just had a sort of nightmare. I say “sort of” because it isn’t what I would consider a typical nightmare, where things turn to slush and monsters and carnage. In my nightmare, I was being hunted. I don’t know why. Perhaps I had seen something, or angered someone. Nobody knows how a nightmare starts, anyway. So I had a group of assassins on my tail. Somehow, I managed to evade them and take a flight somewhere to attend some fancy family dinner. It was someone’s home in some rich part of the country, that’s all I know. I had some cousins there, though I didn’t see their faces. Right after we started to eat, I believe Grandma’s phone rang. (real grandma passed away, was never rich, by the way.) Immediately I suspected that it was an assassin. I got up to leave. They had known about my situation, and loudly encouraged me to take my trouble elsewhere. Family, huh? So I ran, but it was too late, the assassin had entered, and seen me. I ran into the Ladies’ thinking I could buy some time. I remember trying to call the one I love. J. I remember thinking I didn’t want to die without telling her one last time that I loved her. Before I could, though, I heard sounds of pain, and somehow knew that the assassin had come into the restroom and vented his anger on some innocent woman. I ran while he was enjoying his horrible deed. The last thing I remember was that I was running, running, running.
I have not tried very hard to capture the fear of the situation, because I wanted to get the bare bones down before they evaporated. I also mainly wanted to ask: what does this mean?