I am in my grandfather’s truck. We’re driving down a highway. The sky is a reflection of the highway. The highway is highly sophisticated, with stroboscope lights and neons everywhere. The whole road seems to be made of some sort of indestructible grey metal. Suddenly some teenage girl comes right in front of us and crosses the street in her little bicycle.

 ” What an irresponsible behavior ” I say.

” Yeah that girl is going to get killed one day ” Grandpa replies.

 The girl goes on the wrong side of the highway. She’s cycling through the cars like she’s suicidal.

” I do hope the cops will stop her! ” ( or something similar ), I yell.

As in most dreams, when you ask for it, it pops out of nowhere. There’s a car that passes right next to us, and it turns out it’s a police officer in his car. We take some other road and we leave the cop and the girl alone on the other side of the highway. We end up in a tunnel ( but since the reflecting sky was pretty much like a tunnel, that would make it a tunnel inside a tunnel ). Suddenly, we’re out of the truck. In fact, the truck just disappeared. We’re walking our way in some sort of arena. Some sort of large corridor or something. The walls, ceiling and floor are all grey. Man, this is boring. The whole place is quite dirty and some newspaper pages can be seen here and there on the ground. Finally we get out of that area and we end up in a living room plenty of strangers.

 There’s this guy who’s friend with my grandpa. His nickname is Pinto since he would always rent those Pinto cars for some reason. He remembers me ( which is pretty out of the ordinary since he never remembers me in reality ).

” Hi Rusty. ”

” Hey. ”

The way he said that made me wonder if he was high on something. He usually yells all the time and now he seems so peaceful and quiet. Something is wrong with Pinto! I chose to keep on walking in that huge living room. There’s plenty of stuff. There’s like 10 carpets on the ground, all with different colors and drawings. There’s a big table made out of some dark wood. There are books on every shelves available. There’s a lot of light. Ordinary light-bulbs, candles, even a fireplace. I sit next to the fireplace. The couch I chose is red, pretty much the color of wine. One of my aunt is there, talking with the strangers. This living room is totally new to me. There’s a big bald guy who keeps on talking louder than everyone. He told me something I cannot remember. I remember he was saying something positive. Grandpa is approving what he said. Suddenly there’s an unknown girl in her mid-20s in complete black clothes ( some sort of a blond goth ) who comes to me and starts yelling at me and accusing me of doing idiotic stuff like misplacing her shoes, fondling her COAT and stuff! I stand up and I start arguing with her, trying to solve the situation but the stupidity of the accusations make me laugh. She gets really mad at me now. Her boyfriend enters the living room. She pushes me on the couch and she starts screaming and says I molested her. The boyfriend is like, a mountain of muscles dressed in leather and spikes, and starts threatening me. She’s now all over the guy and hides behind him as if I was the most horrible thing created. At every single threat he shouts at me, they kiss in the most grotesque way. The guy is like:

” Don’t worry baby you’re alright now. AND YOU, YOU’RE A DEAD MAN! ”

– The alarm clock wakes me up before I can do anything. Damn, I hate when that happens! Plus, it’s that annoying Sean Kingston singing. Accursed, so-called reality! I am waking up in HELL indeed…

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