more dreams

I had the strangest dream last night:


I had one best friend, and all we ever did was hang out together. I would go over to his house, but I couldn't ever remember what happened there; I would only ever remember the shape of the outside of the house, and that there was a grand piano in a room filled with windows.

One day something happened- I don't exactly remember what- and I was going to go and fix it. Someone dangerous had changed everything, and I wanted things back to the way they were. My best friend told me not to go, but I went anyway.

We met in an alley, the dangerous person and I, and I was walking toward him when he pulled out a gun and shot in my direction. I thought that if I pretended to be dead, he would just walk by and I could leave.
I didn't know he had followed me there, but I heard a yell- and another shot. When I twisted around, there my friend was. All crumpled up. Dead.

Blood was everywhere. Too much blood.
Then I felt the pain, and when I looked down I realized I had been shot too.
But that wasn't what hurt the most.

Seems like I fell asleep then. When I woke up, it was raining. And my memories were back- I could finally remember all the stuff my friend and I had been through together. But actually remembering him just made things worse.
I ran outside through the rain, across the grass to his house. I saw the room with all the windows, and when I tried the door it actually opened a crack. I went and sat on the piano bench to watch the rain streaming down the windows.

After a while I got up and walked through the house. Everything I met was so familiar, as if it was my own.
It had been my own.

I noticed the trembling when I got to his room. I went around greeting every familiar object.

Suddenly his mom was there. She told me that I could visit whenever I wanted; that maybe I could go into the room with all the windows and play the piano- fill the house with music again.
But I didn't want to. I didn't ever want to set foot in that house again.
I turned around and ran through the house, past the piano, through the window room, not sure if the water running down my face was the rain or my tears.

And then it ended.

I woke up and Clinton was in the shower, my dog was sighing contentedly next to me, rain streaming down the windows outside.
It was just a dream.
A really vivid dream, though.
I can't stop thinking about it...