i dream of living dead.

lounging, hanging out at my friend heather’s house.  i do not like heather.  we’re with her mother, in the living room, watching television - kitchen’s directly behind us to our right.  i go in the kitchen, heather’s nowhere to be found.  i spend some time there, rummaging through their cabinets, fridge, trying to find something to munch on.  heather returns home shortly thereafter, turns out she was at a friend’s birthday party.

not long after that, we suddenly find ourselves swarmed with dea agents both inside and surrounding the perimeter of the house.  they are armed with a variety of warrants - several of them however, warranting them to search for the same thing over and over.  each search leads to exponentially more dea agents.  everyone’s freaking out, no one is sure what’s going on except for the fact that we all know heather does have a dependency on prescription drugs.

fast forward: we are with my friend joe.  more specifically, i am with my friend joe, a younger sibling of his, and his friend.  there has been an attack of some sort, no one really knows how/what happened for sure.  there is chaos, everywhere.  the streets are filled with blood.  you try to ignore the blood curdling screams that meet your ears from every direction, it’s impossible.  we are all at a kmart.  or a walmart, of some sort.  it has been ransacked - we are grabbing supplies.  we grab necessities - canned food, water, and even some non-necessities - sand castle toys.  the kmart we are in has been infiltrated - we are being attacked by the living dead left and right.  we scramble our way out to the parking lot, mostly empty, hotwire the nearest car we can find, and get ourselves as far away as we can from that parking lot that’s now quickly becoming a memory.  we head off for joe’s to check on his mother.

his mother is gone.  her body is still there, but she is gone.  we are in the bathroom.  we are out of the bathroom.  as quickly as we got to the house, we are out of the house.  we go back into the city, armed.  we make a stop, to someone’s house (possibly mine, or someone of significance to me), to see if they are alive - the door is answered by a set of teeth dripping blood.  we run.  we see my father…right as he is being attacked.  there is nothing we can do, it is too late.  we are in city center.  surrounded by concrete, architectural feats everywhere.  we hide, or try to, with the hundreds of other residents fleeing to the streets.  it is without luck - open concrete floorplans and steel banisters provide not the type of protection we are seeking.  at this point, the part of town we are in is quiet aside from a soft murmur - we hustle our way into a parking lot (it is now night) and find an unlocked pink beetle with which to start.  there is difficulty with the door, i cannot get in easily.  as tension builds, there is a man, in transformation, that comes up to us to beg us for a help and a ride, we shoot.

i abruptly wake.