This morning I walked into a similar dream. My little brother and sister and I were hanging out in a big house having fun. I walked into my parents room where my mama was sitting on the bed with my stepfather. He looked at me and asked me for money. I told him I already give him enough money and he rose from the bed to scream at me. I walked away. He followed me saying he was gonna get more money. My mama followed us throughout the house.
I walked outside and he came after me with a big shotgun. My brother was outside playing and when I saw the shotgun I yelled at him to run. He began running and my mama started running too. I grabbed my sister and dragged her with me because she was little.
I heard the first gun shot. When I looked back my brother was on the ground. My Mama picked up her pace running…running.. I was ahead of her. I heard the second gun shot and then I didn’t hear her running anymore. When I looked back, as I dragged my sister through the open field, I saw him aim his shot gun at me and smile…
I turned around and kept running…
And then i told myself to wake up.
Maybe I died last night and this is my afterlife. Maybe that dream was true and now is what happens when you die; you feel like it was all a dream.
But as I rubbed my eyes and sat up in bed, I felt angry that I keep having this tortuous dream. I was angry that I can’t get over this. I was sad that even though I don’t even see him more than a few times a year, he still haunts me to this day.
Then I realized… It’s just a dream.
“He’s not like that anymore,” my sister told me one day.
He’s not like that anymore.
And even if he continues to kill me in my dreams, I always wake up.