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The dream started at my house. My

The dream started at my house. My brother and I were home alone. Then these black vans surrounded our house. I remember being told to "watch out for black vans." I try to get my brother up, saying we have to hide, but he didn't believe me. As one of them walked up to the house, I slammed the door shut and locked it. Sometimes we leave our front door open for fresh air. After I did that, they left us alone for a while, but they were still watching us, watching our every move. I tried to call my mom, or 911, but I guess the men did something to our service too. So we hid and waited. Then I got the bright idea (why, dream me, why) of trying to run to the neighbors house and ask for help. My brother and I took the back door out, but the men were still encircled around the house. They got a hold of me, my brother escaped. They took me to this abandoned, overpopulated house that was in terrible shape. It was in the middle of downtown San Diego, I'm surprised no one saw it. By overpopulated I mean it was filled with other kids I knew, who were also all abducted. We were allowed to roam freely around the house, we just had two unofficial rules to live by. 1: Don't try to escape. 2: DON'T anger The King. We also had these weird tracker collars. They would send signals to The King, and he'd send his little men in black vans to go and kill us, and the black van men were everywhere in the outside world. Who is The King? He's the head honcho, the big kahuna of that house. No one knows who he is, or his motives. In fact, no one knew why we were taken here. Nothing bad was happening (yet), but we knew something sinister was brewing underneath. We were scared shitless. One day, The King revealed himself. He was a short, squatty man, but had the face of a sour lemon. He had a sword tucked in its sheath in his belt loop. He didn't announce him as The King, we just all kind of figured, since he looked way way older than the rest of us. He would just walk around the house, as if he was on patrol. If he didn't like the way you look, he'd kill you. If you attempted to kill him (many did), he'd make sure you die the most brutal death. He was terrifying. I avoided him at all costs. What I saw from him was unfathomable. A transgender boy was having a mental breakdown and wasn't in the right mind. He confronted The King, pleading on his knees that he'd let him go. The King looked down at the boy. "You want to be a boy right?" The kid looked up, a little taken back by this comment. "What does that have to do with anything!?" The kid responded with, getting more frustrated and angry. "I'll help you pass better as a boy." The King grabbed him by his fluffy, pretty-long-for-a-boy hair, and scalped him with his sword. Like, he cut off his hair, and scalp, so all you could see was his brain. He fell over dead. The King did all of this with such a deadpan face. He turned to the boy's body, spat on it, and muttered, "Tranny pig." Everyone watching, and there was a lot of them, turned away once The King turned to walk away. This man was a monster. I saw a lot of kids I knew there, who were from school, dance, the neighborhood, etc. I saw a girl I knew from school and cheer leading on the verge of death, anothr cheerleading classmate, who was also her best friend, cradling her, crying. The King shot the dying one in the thigh, because she tried to escape, leaving her to die slowly. It was pretty merciful, compared to the other methods of punishment. This broke my heart. The two most popular and joyous girls I knew were at utmost despair. Throughout the dream, I could only think about my parents and my brother. Flash forward to another day, I'm walking around the house, like usual, with the rest of the "herd" of abducted children, and I meet up with that one girl who was cradling and crying over her dying best friend. We talked a little, she's very damaged because of what happened to her best friend. She tells me we need to escape. That her friend's death cannot be in vain. I'm very reluctant, but I'm pretty fast on my feet. I agree. We climb over the wall, and run a couple meters from the house. I look back, and I understand why no one sees the kids, or anything that's occurring in that house. There's some sort of protection field that makes it still look like its abandoned from the outside. The sirens go off. Green lazor lights are everywhere. Those represent the locations of the Black Van Men. We make it as far as the freeway. We try to remove the collars but we can't. Then I wake up.

The setting of this dream took place

The setting of this dream took place at four-year University in the student gift shop. Teachers and students were nonchalantly conversing in the shop, like they would on an average day. Mr. Roopchand happened to be one of the teachers conversing in the shop, amongst other teachers. The place where the teachers were discussing “teacher things” was by the clothing rack on a blue polka-doted carpet. All of a sudden, thin, thorn-covered vines began slithering across the carpet toward the teachers. The teachers remained unaware of the vines, and continued their conversations. The vines made its way to the oblivious teachers and crept up their bodies until it reached their thick necks. It wrapped itself, repeatedly around each teacher’s neck that was standing on the carpet, and began to strangle them. The teachers had no chance. Before they could even begin to fathom what was happening, they took their last breath. Although they did not fall to the ground after being strangled to death, as most would expect, they stood in place, as if they were statues. As I stood on the tile floor in utter and complete disbelief, I noticed a correlation between the teachers who were talking on the carpet, and the students who were conversing on the tile floor across the room. I came to a random conclusion that speaking while on the carpet causes vines to appear and strangle the person committing the innocent act. I have absolutely no idea where my conclusion stemmed from. I rushed over to the students to warn them about the absurd and horrific event that just occurred. I told them word for word what happened to the unfortunate teachers, and begged them not to speak while on any type of carpet (good thing only half of the store was covered in carpet, and the rest in tile). The students walked out in oblivion and silence; even though they were stepping on tile. They took no risk. As the students and I walked out of the gift shop, a female student completely disregarded my warning and held a conversation while sitting on the grass under a shaded oak tree, cackling away. I whispered under my breath. "I hope she get's choked by a vine", unexpectedly, a vine appeared, the same thorn-covered vine that strangled the unaware teachers. It wrapped around the cackling student's neck, as it did the teachers prior, and strangled her as she attempted to grasp the last breath of air she would ever take. I grew a strong sense of remorse and sorrow for the unfortunate student whom had no sense of obedience when given instructions. There was an unusual feeling in my stomach. I do not remember stating that one could not speak while on the grass. I shook my head in confusion and mumbled to myself "I thought it was just carpet." As those exact words escaped from my mouth, I slipped off of the sidewalk into the grass for a split second, then regained my proper place back onto the concreted path. As I proceeded to stroll down the sidewalk, I quickly became aware of the thorn-covered veins that attempted to slither up my left leg, up towards my neck region. It tangled itself around my neck and began to squeeze tightly. In a panic, I aggressively attempted to remove the vines from my neck to spare my life. Shockingly, the vines detached itself from my neck with ease. I was is in a state of absolute oblivion. All they had to do was rip them off with their bare hands? I refused to believe that it was that easy. I sprinted home to clear my mind and figure out this situation. I ran into my backyard, only to find that my mother and brother were in the process of removing all of the grass in our back yard, leaving only dirt. "News must travel fast" I stated jokingly. I asked why they had done such and extreme, but clever, deed. They responded, "Not taking any chances." We laughed, and Kristina came outside in the backyard with us to join the conversation. As Kristina was talking, she slipped in a small patch of grass that my mother and brother forgot to remove; Just as I had did earlier that day. Again the vines appeared to collect their next victim. They placed themselves around Kristina's neck and began to strangle her. I screamed in fear " Nina, rip them off with your hands. Hurry up!" She followed my instructions, and frantically tugged at the vines; but they were not releasing her neck. I blurted that she should try getting off of the grass and run on the concrete to see if the vines would remove themselves from her throat. She ran like a maniac down the street, trying her best to remove the stubborn vines. As Kristina ran down the street, a black truck that I was familiar with drove slowly passed my house. In the truck was Mrs. Lisa, a neighbor of mine whom I gave the title of my "second mom", who also passed away last year November. She glanced at me, and then drove off.