Last night's was extremely fucked up (vivid nightmare, still fresh). I saw two of my parents (female partners, and incidentally neither has ever even met her as far as I know) murder my niece in graphic detail and paint the kanji for "Heaven" on the wall in what I presume was her blood.

Panicked (they still hadn't seen me though), I ran downstairs and found that I had two guns - a pistol and a revolver.

I've never used a gun before. I assumed my parents were also armed and desperately searched for cover as I was awkwardly fumbling with the mechanism of the revolver. I heard someone coming and threw the revolver on the kitchen table, ditching it for the pistol.

I kick-shoved an end table out of the way, pulled the couch out from the wall about a foot, and saw my stepmother coming around the corner just as I hit the floor, wanting to get as much of my body out of the line of fire as possible. I wasn't very successful.

I held my breath, cocked the pistol, and misfired. The bullet went over her head, shattering a china cabinet across the dining room.

She calmly picked up the revolver I had left conveniently on the table. The last thing that I remember is dropping the pistol and putting my hands up in protest, and then a short snippet of her dragging me by my wrist behind her and up the stairs again to meet my fate.

I woke up and immediately felt like vomiting, but didn't. I lied still for at least half an hour as I fought back intermittent tears because I couldn't get rid of the imagery. Eventually I had a smoke, played a lecture on Taoism, and managed to go back to sleep.

Now the images are (thankfully) fuzzy, but still there. I've been unable to shake the remnants of the horrific sensation though - I mean, of my niece being in mortal danger.

Anyone want to take a stab at analyzing THAT?

~ Bow