The dream started that I was Selena Gomez, walking up the road toward’s my uncle’s house. That’s where I was filming. My favourite past time was taking walks. At first I thought it was a bit tiring, but then I realized how nice it was to take a walk. Then the wind started blowing hard and it was SO nice. I could feel the old stuck energy being blown off of me. Ahhh it was so refreshing and cleansing. The weird and sad thing was that there was a microphone hooked to me, so anything I said or thought was recorded to be published for everyone to hear. Eventually I got to my Uncle’s house.
My grammie, who has dimensia and lives in a care home, somehow went back to her house to live with her son (who is a bit challenged). Anyway, he had no patience or understanding for her, and he killed her! I happened to see this (I was me now), and I was terrified. He knew that I saw him do it, so I took off running. It was night time, and dark, and I ran as fast as I could.
I knew I could outrun him for a bit. I was going to go to the first house I came to, but it was small, and I thought it would be the first place he would look. I looked behind me, and knew I had more time, so I ran to the second house, a big farm house.
I ran up the stairs, and thankfully the door was unlocked. I went through the next door, which still had a set of keys in it, and told the home owners what had happened and to call the police. I told them to lock the door and frantically reminded the woman that the keys were still in it. The husband, and kids and I ran to the stairs to go hide. I noticed the man seemed pretty old to have 3 young kids, but whatever. So, we started climbing the stairs. They were like attic stairs, and they had gaping holes every now and then. We climbed set after set, to get to the attic. I would peek outside and look to see if my uncle, P, had found me yet. I caught a glimpse of him out the window, stalking around searching. SO scary!
We kept climbing and the husband got his legs stuck and hanging from one of the gaping holes. I was like “OMG HURRY UP!”. Now it had been three days since it happened, and I was still in the attic. I really started to wonder why the police hadn’t come yet.
Eventually P found me, and he was in the attic with us. We were watching movies with the other family, and I went to go to the bathroom. He followed me and I was scared he would push me down a hole in the ceiling to kill me now. But.. it wasn’t like that. He was a scared and lonely little child. He needed love and caring, and wanted me to pinky swear with him. I felt quite sad and sorry that he hadn’t had any love.