Dexter the Lost Boy

We were at our old house, where we grew up. My friend was there with my brother, husband, and I.  We were all in the kitchen, when I heard something in the basement.  I heard the deep freeze open and close and knew someone had broken in through the basement, I was really worried and scared. I looked out the patio window, to the back yard and saw a whole group of people (all kids and one adult), carrying stolen things out and piling them by the trees.  I told my brother to come look quick! They had even removed the pellet stove! I said I would call the police, but my brother said he would do it.

 
 
I got my phone to take pictures of the people. It zoomed in on a license plate of their car, and I tried to capture that too. They looked up and all saw me. I started waving at them so they would know they were caught.  Then they started coming near the house. Ahh!  
 
Tara and I ran to the garage, and very silently hid there. My brother and husband were still in the house.  Now I had my 2 year old daughter with us too, and we ran outside to get into the car. We got in my husbands’s car to escape. I felt sorry to leave him and my brother in the house but I had to keep my daughter safe.  
 
Just as we were about to pull away, one of the kids jumped on the car and somehow got in. I debated about driving to the police station about 10 minutes away, or to my brother’s friend, D’s house. I decided I would try to just get down the road to D’s because I knew he would have some type of hunting rifle or something to scare the kid away. 
 
I asked the kid what his name was, but he wouldn’t tell me. Just then, I heard someone say something into the window, and call the boy Dexter. Hah! I found out his name! It all fell into place and I realized that he was the main character of our story (?).  As I was about to take a right turn onto the end of our road, instead of it being our country road, it was a busy highway with so many cars trying to merge. I was scared of driving in this, but knew I had to keep going, so I was strong and brave and pulled my car into the traffic.
 
As I was driving I told the kid I was going straight to the police station, and he didn’t seem to mind.  We drove and were coming onto a bridge when I realized that everyone else was walking… Was I on a walking bridge? Anyway, I kept going. A friend in the car was directing me. What should have been a 10 minute drive had taken hours! Finally after crossing the bridge, we were at our destination.
 
Instead of the next town, we had driven to… Montreal? Or maybe another French town.  Everyone was French! My friend in the car was French too I guess so that’s why she brought me. Suddenly I started having memories of being there before. Oh yes, I remembered I had gone there with my grammie, Mom and cousins. I remembered all of the details and things we had done (we didn’t really do them in real life, just a dream memory).  
I saw a train and remembered taking the train on a little trip there.
 
We should have been going to the police station, but we stopped somewhere to change clothes ect. I was actually starting to grow fond of Dexter and realized that I probably shouldn’t be so hard on him.  I gave him a hug and a kiss, and he was so happy he almost turned inside out. He wanted me to be his mother too.  He was sorry about being bad but I knew had hadn’t had a mother to take care of him and love him. My heart melted too and I embraced him.  
 
Then, I remembered my husband. I needed to call him and make sure he was okay.  I took out my phone and started to dial his number. (In my dreams, I can NEVER dial a phone number. Ever.  I always hit the wrong numbers and have to try again. Over and over). I kept hitting the wrong numbers and thought I might have to get someone else to dial for me.  It was so frustrating, as usual. I thought to myself. Why is this happening?!  It’s only supposed to be in dreams that I can’t dial a number, but this is real life!  I didn’t realize it was a dream of course, until I woke up.
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