This morning’s dream

It started, I am in my room (this nice Chicago apartment). Two others are there, too. One is female, but I’m not sure who she is. The other is Harrison, a friend of Manivane and Jessica’s, but he was female, too. I’m lying on my bed, Harrison’s lying on the floor, and the girl’s sitting cross-legged on the floor. We’re talking, but I don’t know about what. I think we’d been drinking that night, and it had gotten a little crazy, because the unknown girl’s naked. Harrison’s wearing blue lingerie, which belonged to me in the dream, but I’m fully clothed, wearing my leather coat, even. When Harrison and the girl got into some lesbian-action related positions I’d never seen before (yet made perfect sense), I decide to go get more cheesecake.

I walk into the kitchen, and there’s some guy raiding my fridge. He’s in a blue Hawaiian shirt, and he’s looking for the cheesecake. I chase him off. I look inside the fridge, and the cheesecake’s gone. A little more than upset, I go to the room to tell the others that it’s gone, and I see that the 13-16 year old young man who was in my fridge was now talking to them. Apparently he’s friends with the other girl, who, when she speaks, sounds like Amy, though she doesn’t look like her.

I yell at him to get him out of the apartment, but he runs back into the kitchen. He tries to hide behind the counter, which is movable in this dream, and I reach at him. While I’m waiting for him to come out, he reaches around the other side, to where my microwave is, and presses buttons, trying to come up with a combination to blow it up. This is a very bad move, as I was angry once at him for trying to steal my cheesecake, but now he’s trying to kill me. A doubly-angry Amanda is not something you want to face.

I grab him and pull him out from behind the counter, and squeeze his neck. He struggles while I hold him, and he struggles more when I bring him toward my face, preparing to bite him. I take a chunk out of his forehead, and he screams. The chunk didn’t come all the way off, so I grabbed it with my left hand, still holding his throat with the right, and peal it off, taking much skin with it.

I drag him from the kitchen to the doorway, intent on getting him out of my apartment. It’s late at night, and, not wanting to disturb the other neighbors, I decide to silence him. For some reason, the best way to do this was to place my fingers in his mouth and pull his jaws apart. As I pulled, he got quieter, and I only stopped pulling when bottom jaw was hanging by a bit of skin. He was bleeding all over, but it didn’t matter to me now; he was dead.

I dragged his body out of the apartment and threw it in a lift, hitting the first floor button on it. The lift left, and I returned to my apparent to grab paper towels to clean up the mess. Paper towels worked perfectly.

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