Oh God, what a disturbing dream I was having this morning.

I was working as a maid at a family home somewhere in the East of US. An adopted kid to the family was used as an entertainment vessel. They would put the kid into some rooms to fight with animals or get him sringed — all for their entertainment. He has bruises everywhere in his body.

One day, I couldn’t take it anymore. I get the kid and we are start running away. I get a bullet, but we don’t stop running. Eventually, we find a taxi, for which I get in the middle of the street to make it stop and take us to a hospital or police. Little that we know, that the two people already in the taxi, were working for the guy I used to. So they are trying to get us back.

Without any other way out, I strangle the kid on the back seat, while they don’t look at us. Out of mercy that is. He smiles while I do so. And I wake up.

1 Comment »

Brendan wrote on October 25th, 2007 at 2:35 PM PST:

My dreams often seem to going somewhere at a great pace – gathering momentum the closer I get to waking.

I kinda think my brain hates waking up real bad whereas ‘I’ actually like getting up…

Comments are closed as this blog post is now archived.

Lines, paragraphs break automatically. HTML allowed: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>

The URI to TrackBack this blog entry is this. And here is the RSS 2.0 for comments on this post.