My dream was long and weird. I started off going to see that new Jackie Chan movie. The really cool thing about it was that Jackie Chan was there. The people who bought the movie tickets were brought into this speshal screening room, and I was seperated from my friends. But I couldn’t find a seat. Jackie helped me find one, inbetween an old man and an old couple. I sat between them and the couple scooted a seat away from me. The old man kept talking to me while I tried to watched the movie. Then his face sorta meltd and he got younger, more psycotic. He started rubbing my leg, and saying things about raping me and killing me. I started screaming at the top of my lungs and suddenly he clamped his hand around my throat. I don’t know how I escaped, perhaps Jackie helped me. But suddenly I was running hard, jumping on rooftops, just anything to get away. And I could hear a newscaster voice in my head talking about a psycotit serial killer that tried to murder a teenage girl.

I remember from a point on which I was looking on a laptop, online. Wireless internet? I was on Matthew*sempai’s webpage, which is nonexistant I might add, and there were pictures of a shopping center. “I wonder where this is,” was the discription under the picture. “If anyone could tell me, it’d be greatly appreciated.” So I look around and I’m standing in the middle of a shopping center. I think it’s the one in the pictures for a while, but then I realized it wasn’t. Oh well.

The country was in the middle of some kind of war. My mom was trying to get me and my sisters to this somewhere that my dad was. We were taking a “train”. The train wasn’t a real train because although it ran by itself, we had to control it. The tracks were a mess, and you had to jump the train from track to track in order to get anywhere. And there was no roof, the train wasn’t enclosed. My mom couldn’t figure out where to go. We went around in strange train track circles. My mom was talking to my dad on a sort of radio thing. He was yelling her, and that gave me the idea he was on the “bad” side of the war. Sort of like a Hilter Nazi type of group. The area we were riding around in was like an industrial park. With water. Eventually the water rose so that when we went into a dip on the track we were completely submerged. I could hear people talking about us. “Look at that poor famiy, with no where to go. Their train doesn’t even have a roof! Oh, look they’re going underwater. Hope the children don’t die.”