Understand My Dreams basa"d

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I just had the worst dream: *it was a follow up to a dream I had when I was younger• *disclaimer in the dream I realize I had experienced this before as a teenager and the exact events are happening again with what seem like different people* “I start reading a horror book that is super popular, all of a sudden the things in the book start happening to me, and I keep thinking to myself there is no way this is in the book because I experience it, and all of a sudden these things start happening to me again. There are all males in the dream except for one other female...everyone in the dream is trying to rape me. I am woken up one night by someone that I trust with a phone call telling me to get out of the house because everything is real and some guys are on the way to get me, on the way outside to get away one guy starts to chase me and I stab him and all he is saying is that was not the way you did it all those years ago try again! I get outside and there seem to be about 10 men. I am running and finally I run into the arms of the male that called me, but turns out he is working with them and we are scrambling and I am trying to get away from him and I stab him in between the shoulder blades, he starts laughing going you aren’t going to kill me that way and proceeds to take the knife out yelling don’t you remember and stabs himself in the same place I did years ago.” At this point in real life I wake up hyperventilating and screaming. If anyone could help me interpret this dream it would be helpful because the is the 2nd time I’ve had it in the last 5 years and it is terrifying it feels so real.

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A ship, the colors and patterns of my room floats in on the shore, the people are docking it. Later theres a girl arguing with someone upset they're not going to make it to New Orleans. I escape and with me are two other people, one of them I sense is a friend, the other my rescue. We go out on a balcony overlooking the water under the moonlight, there are two water serpents or dragons, we both slither our tongues at each other. The friend is making comedic commentary, though I can't place who they are, as if there is a veil around my eyes. We go inside, he follows me frantically taking me up into his arms. It is only now that I noticed I'm wearing a backless velvet dress, like one I've thrifted before. He said he likes it, asking me if my mother made it. I look deeply into his eyes... We are dancing very close I can feel him, our hips and groin rubbing together. We're getting married he said, but I plea that I am already married, as my eyes dart towards the door.

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On the first day, I'm walking along narrow path and I come to pass a Mosque where an Imam startles me. He intercepts me, placing his hand on my left shoulder. He impales my shoulder joint with his Tallon and gestures to the Qur'an he is holding. He asks me with hostility: "would you like to hear it in English or Arabic?" To which I answer: "neither" as I free myself from his grip and continue walking briskly. I sense that my audacity has angered him. I look back to gauge my safety and I see the Imam colluding with another person, talking secretly and pointing me out. This other person seems to take instruction and proceeds to follow me. I periodically look back to stay ahead and the person has morphed into the dress of a Catholic priest while having gained some ground on me. I look again and now he is a Presbyterian minister and stalking me like prey. Next glance he is Rabbi and chasing me. Every time I look back the person adorned a different religious attire, many of which were familiar from various Christian denominations I would ordinarily feel comfortable and friendly towards. I manage to stay ahead of the pursuing adversary. The next day I am walking along the same path and approaching the Mosque. I notice that the Mosque looks more like a cathedral and there are no distinguishable features that tell me it is a mosque, however there is no doubt in my mind that it is a Mosque. I become weary that I am nearly at the spot where the Imam cornered me the day earlier, so I look ahead and walk to the edge of the path in hopes to avoid him. Out of nowhere, he intercepts me and impales between my bones with his claw once again. "English or Arabic?" He hisses, as he begins pulling me towards the mosque. "Neither!" I say, as I painfully rip my flesh to get free. Again I briskly walk and am pursued by a shapeshifter. The third and final day I am walking along the narrow path. I have come to expect confrontation as a permanent obstacle. I consider crossing the road to avoid the ordeal, which would be out of my way and slow me down. Then I think to myself "why should I". Why should I make an alteration to my life and routine for such evil? Instead I march fearlessly towards the usual spot. Sure enough, he jumps out hoping to scare me, but I was expecting him. But before he can insert his claw, like a true martyr I offer my shoulder to him with arrogance and willingness to suffer the pain. This robbes him of much satisfaction as latches on. "Which will it be, English or Arabic?" He asks with malice. I look straight into his black eyes and calmly say "of that book I will hear neither, nor any other tongue".

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