Alright FJ, I'm about to tell you about some...Strange dreams I've been having. They might not be scary or any of that ********, but I don't know where else to put it.
> Normal everything.
> I wasn't stressed about tests or grades. I knew that everything was going to be ay-oh-kay.
> Walking home.
> Hear a feminine voice whisper "Come."
> Just "Come."
> Naturally, my first thought is 'lolahookerhuheu' but something about this voice just didn't give off that...Sluttiness.
> The more I thought about it, the more unsettled I got.
> What the **** ever, decide to just let it roll off my back, it wasn't even directed at me.
> Go to sleep at a decent hour (Like 10:00-10:30).
> Dreaming now, but nothing feels hazy at all.
> I'm in a house. A shack, really. It's small, barely enough to house two people.
> Everything seems...Drained. Like, the colours aren't...Colour-y. It's hard to explain.
> Walk outside.
> Someone stops me. A woman.
> She hands me a knife and a flashlight.
> Put them in my pocket.
> Notice that there's already something in my pocket.
> This is where I get lucid. I have full control over my actions, and everything is just...Clear as ****.
> Pull it out, there's a compass. Sweet.
> Walking around town, everything looks just like my home neighborhood, except it's not in the middle of the desert, it's gloomy as **** (desaturated as ****) and there's a forest to the east.
> Apparently feral dogs were what I was up against, because that's all that was out there, and they were all trying to kill me.
> Side step 'em, just let them be idiots and miss everything.
> Keep going, walking around, make my way through the forest.
> It's small. really really small.
> I near a clearing.
> The only thing that isn't a tree or the ground is right in my eye sight, and holy ****.
> A goddamned mansion. Old, Victorian-esque-thing going on there. The colours don't look as desaturated as everything else, but this entire dream still looks like a goddamned Tim Burton movie.
> There's also a person. A woman.
> She was just...
> "Red of hair, emerald of eyes," as my journal depicted her. She was naked when I first saw her.
> She looked a little...What's the term, suffer-y? So I handed her my jacket.
> We exchange words, thank you's being through left and right.
> Suddenly the sun sets and everything just gets a whole 'nother shade of creepy-vibe.
> "We should head inside," she whispers. "It gets worse than it already is at night."