I was about ten years old and I had just gotten in a huge, blow-up fight with my friend Molly. This fight was so big, she actually threatened to “kick the shit” out of my sister. And because of this, I was done with her and everything that had to do with her.

That night, as I slept, I had a dream that actually scared me so much, I woke up crying. The dream went like this:

I was in an old abandon furniture store. I think it was Ramor and Flannagan (my family had gone there that day).

I was in a holding place where the kept extra mattresses. The grate that surrounded me was made of weak metal. Suddenly, there was a person behind me. It was a man, and I screamed. The man clamped his hand down on my mouth and reached down, and snapped a piece of the metal off. The man proceeded to stab me, twice I think.

I remember my dream switching from watching me, to watching my family in the main part of the store, oblivious to what was going on behind them.

And then I suddenly woke up, hysterically crying.

Later that day, I looked up what my dream meant.

It meant that I had recently been back-stabbed.