The thief and the killer

We had stopped to scour the gas station's convenient store in the midafternoon. I wore my bulky skateboard backpack, packed to bursting with unimaginables. The store was miniscule and extremely understocked, I looked and looked for a bottle of soda appealing to me, but even in the two tiny fridges, there were none. Jarom kept bringing me small bags of chips and candy, begging for a treat. I would decline him and put the food back, out of place. We eventually packed up and left with nothing.

I decided I would try again, alone this time. I returned still wearing my backpack, which I placed on the floor near the back. This time I spied a soda that I liked, but as I opened the refrigerator door to grab it, I found it distastefully warm, so I returned it. I readied to leave again, but the attendant called me over and told me I owed him around thirty dollars. I was appalled.

"How could I owe you any money, I haven't bought anything?!"

"That is what you owe me for what you stole."

Ah, so he thought I had pocketed and stolen all the items that Jarom had brought me earlier. I told him that he was mistaken, I had not stolen anything, my backpack was full prior to my entering the store, and all the food my son had brought me had been placed back on the shelves, albeit in an incorrect place. In arguing this, I went to retrieve my backpack to prove my innocence by showing its contents, but I found it missing. The attendant knew what had transpired.

"Brother must have stolen it. Did you leave your keys in the car?"

I looked outside and saw that my Jeep was missing also. Brother had grabbed my backpack and stolen my Jeep, most likely with the intention of selling my expansive cd collection to a used vendor in town.

I went around back and prepared to collect what was rightfully mine. As I did so, the world melted and transformed into a water realm with a large castle looming inflatable-like behind me. It was made of red brick, and its turrets housed soldiers with spears and archers. I rushed along the thick green grass to a small tree, attempting to take cover. They were here to make battle with me and I needed do my best to prevail. I ran quickly to the nearest foundation of the castle, where it sat in the shadow of the second floor's overhang. As I leaned against the wall and wondered where I could apprehend a weapon, a helmeted face leaned over the edge and stared at me upsidedown, with an unbelievably thin metal spear pointed my direction.

In a heap of panic and instinct, I grabbed the spear mid-upway on the shaft and bent it back towards its wielder. I poked it deep into the flesh of his neck, chest and upper arms, hoping to kill him, my enemy. His face was expressionless as I did this, he hardly made any attempt to pull away. After spearing him through and through, bloodlessly, numerous times, I grabbed hold of him at the neck. I wrestled him to the grass and hoped to strangle him, but even in my tightest of grips, his breath still wheezed forth from his nose and mouth. As I strengthened and intensified my grip, his neck stretched like taffy and molded itself long and thin, like licorice rope. I kept at it, grabbing in new places and position, but still that breath wheezed, "Hhhhhhhhhh."

My foe would not perish, no matter how I tried.

[Dreamt and remembered around 7:50 AM, October 10 2005]