One night, for some reason, as I laid in bed waiting for sleep to take over my sentience, I thought of famous fictional serial killers, and the one that managed to slip through my dreams was Ghostface.
In my dream, I was still in my candlelit room, in the process of thinking, when I felt Ghostface's presence outside. Fear and alertness suddenly filled up my primitive instincts that I stood up to close my windows. In the dream, however, I had too many windows, which, of course, in my dream-self, seemed nothing out of the ordinary to me. Although at each shut of the windows my hands executed, I was petrified at the idea that I wouldn't have enough time to close them all before trouble could break in.
A couple of days later—still part of the dream—I heard the news that the aerodrome firefighter who used to be my sex friend three years ago, killed a girl right in front of where I live. He said that he'd been waiting for me to come out for four days and out of frustration, he killed a female passerby. The police didn't catch him yet and my sister, who so happened to be Angelina Jolie, ahem, warned me about him and did everything in her power to get me to safety because apparently, he was still trying to get ahold of me. For whatever reason, I don't know. A lot still happened but I only remember them now as hazy fragments.
But Angelina Jolie as my sister.. 😂 Haha! She's basically mom's favourite actress but in the dream, she was younger. It was a really cool dream. It immediately turned into a killer-chasing-victim action the moment she entered the scene and the most splendid part was that she was my protector.
That was random, though, me suddenly dreaming of Clark. Can't believe it's been three years. I still remember our first date when I hugged him for the first time and my bra suddenly fell. Lmfao.
[Originally written: December 30, 2021]