Prolouge
“I was about my same age in my dream. We were driving back from a park like “Jurassic Park” where a dinosaur had attacked me. We were in Utah but there were waterfalls every where and it was sort of tropical and deserty at the same time.
That was when my parents told me that I had a different bloodline. This man was related to me and he was my dad’s long lost brother (which is strange because my dad is an only child) and he had two girls and a boy. The oldest girl was seventeen, then the second oldest was fifteen, and the boy was thirteen.
We heard that this man was a major killer and had left a note outside my window saying, “If you’re a 30 flower, I’ll find you, and I’ll kill you.”
I had no idea what the whole flower thing meant but I figured it was some kind of ranking. My brother told me to carry a sniper around and I did some of the time, but the man was coming to pick me up along with his children. We waited and my nieces, Nadejda, Isabel, and Helen were there.
Someone knocked on the door and I quickly put away my sniper and opened the door. There was a girl with a darker complexion, black hair, and brown eyes. This was the oldest who was seventeen.
“They’re waiting in the car,” she told me and we went downstairs to grab my stuff. We were taking them out to the car and I saw another note. It read: “50 flower, 20 tiger” I stuffed it into my pocket and we put my stuff in the trunk. I saw the thirteen year old boy, who looked an awful lot like a boy in my math class named Trent.
Everything was so noisy, my nieces were crying and my family was too. I didn’t want to go, but I had been seeing this man everywhere. I suddenly had flashbacks in the dream, or they were supposed to be visions. We were at the “Jurassic Park” and I had seen the man. We were driving and I had seen the man. Every time I saw the man.
My nieces ran up to me and hugged me, and I was scared. My parents told me not to be, and that even though the man was a killer, he wouldn’t dare hurt me. I was holding back tears and hugging my parents. The seventeen-year-old girl tapped me on the shoulder, and then I woke up.”
I told my psychiatrist the story. I had been having troubling dreams lately, and confessing to my overreacting mom, didn’t help at all.
“Well, do you know anyone in this dream?” she asked me.
I rolled my eyes and nodded. “Yes, I told you. Trent like the guy in my math class and my nieces.”
“Does this reflect your life in some way?”
I rolled my eyes again. The same old questions, blah blah blah blah. I hated this, but what I didn’t know, was when she asked, “Does this reflect your life in some way?” an answer would come to me in the next few years. And I didn’t think that the answer yes was a very positive one.
