Horrible nightmares

I don’t often remember my dreams, but when I do they are realistically vivid. I’ve also recently noticed that I tend to remember my dreams when I’ve had more sleep.

Last night I was tired earlier than usual, and got into bed around 11.30pm. Within half-hour I was out like a light! Amazing. (Every time I fall asleep earlier than midnight, I’m a bit too hopeful that I’ll be able to wake up on time. I’m always disappointed.) My dreams then were fairly scary. Not scary in a monster-attack way, but in a real-life way.

I dreamt I was driving alone in my car to some destination. Later, I meet my parents and sleep at their house. The next morning they take me out to breakfast, and I notice bruises on my arms, some bright and some faded. My parents try to change the subject.

I’m insistent, wondering where these bruises came from, and if I have any more. Eventually my parents tell me I fell asleep while driving my car the week earlier and I’ve been passed out at their house ever since. When I fell asleep, the car slammed into a tree, not only ruining the car and bruising me, but killing a small child attempting to build a fort in its branches.

Somehow my parents were able to get me away from hospitals and police, and now we were going into hiding. I freak out and demand to go back and explain to the police and the child’s family, and own up to what I’d done. My mother slides a glass of orange juice my way, and I pass out again after drinking it.

I later wake up in the back of their car and start screaming. This is when I woke up, in the real world, to an alarm clock blaring an hour and a half after it originally started.

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