Sometime between 3.30 a.m. and 6.00 a.m. last night, I dreamt peculiar dreams.
It was something of an "Alfred Hitchcock slasher meets Stephen King horror" kind of dream.
Yup, I'm weird.
Memories are vague right now, but I remember a lot of blood and gore, with senseless mass killings in a building. Think it was a house. My house me thinks.
I remember that several cars were stolen, so I guess this must have been a robbery cum murder thingy. I think most of my family members were dead, except for maybe my dad, whom I remember was still with me before I woke up. There was also this creepy feeling that surfaced on and off throughout this dream...the feeling that "something" was lurking around, hence the Stephen King horror part.
I also remember that I was spared. The reason's a little cliché...
Just as the baddies were approaching me, one of them saw my tattooed arm and turned "best-friend" just like that, coupled with slaps on the back, bear hugs...ughh. Yeahh...I killed your family but now I see your tat and we're best of friends! =p It was with that that he let me off, with my dad who was still with me.
If dreams could be interpreted sensibly (not any new-age inanities pls), I would like to know.