#its weird i didnt habe this dream like. a long time aho tho

[queencryo]

well that was... something of a dream. im skipping a bunch of the parts thatcare irrelevant to the big parts. so!

i went bacj home from school to pick up smth and xheck on the atmospherixs machinery. the house feels... dark. dark and dreary, and that weird feeling ir always had in the kiddle od the day with no lights on (god the ligbt incthat house was always beautiful...)

my dad is there. he is looking... sullen. in a mood, as he sometimes did, and this also made him... weird and frigbtening. so. i quicksave. my mom is sleeping deeply in rhe parenr bedroom, as she was so wont to do in the middle of the day. ah... i grab my knife, as it makes me feel a little bit more safe and capable. i know, around then, that dad has just stabbed my mom to death in her sleep. this permanently deforms the bed such that the right side is curved up to be at fully pointing uo (weird dr3am physics).

i sneak around the hous3. maybe he doesnt know imchere. i try ans fail to message one kf my friends to please pl3ase please call 911 (no internet, battery died, Weird Dream Reasons.. etc).

so. my dad is outside of the bedroom. i have locked the door. "whyve ya locked the door, bud?" oh god oh god "just lookin for somethin, haha! gotta head back to school p quick" neiyher of us believes the other. he pulls on the door and i can hear it about to give way. i flip open my knide. it does nktbing to protect me as he kills me.

i quickload. we do it all again. this happens... a few tkmes, trying different means of defending mys3lf, different means of trying to get the police called, different means of trying to calm him down so he doesnt kill me... etc.

on the final one. iirc what saved my life was "hey dad wanna help me, uh. with this projext that invomved machinery and stuff?" (mirroring how when i was a kid i always tried to be inte4ested in whatever Handy projects he was doing, bc it was one od the only ways i could get him to look at me with what didnt feel like disgust/disappointment. i felt like i was better than my sibling (who didnt show up in the dream at all btw. i assume they were at school) becaause i did these things with him. he didnt really like either of us, i think.) so. we both went upstairs. futzed with some valves. some machinery stuff. it was.... awkward and unpl3asant and the atmosphere (ha!) was wretched and heavy, with the looming fear that he would snap and get angry again (just like 45% of my childhood *guitar riff*).

so... we skip forward, about a year or two. i dont know how, like. these things worked out sich that he didnt go to prison. my sibling still isnt in the house, maybe they fled. i was still there. the house has become warped, twisted, in that way dreams can do but reality cant. like a bugged video game level, in some places. like someone had taken the model of my home and just... played with it, i guess.

anyway. dad is in a sullen and violent mood again. but this time im not afraid for me (mostly. he might still get mad and kill me too probably). he has a shovel. i know that he is going to kill himself (like i was always afraid he would). im in the front yard, futzing around. "hey. im working on smth out back." "do ya want me to help?" "no" (we had that exchange a lot. i asked if he wanted me to jelp a lot and he said no a lot. later i realized that maybe hed say yes more if i said "can i help" insread, but... i was a kid. can i be blamed for not knowing how to comm7nicate wifu my emotionally damaged/ing father? he was a fuckin asshole and heartily believed "buh wuh well i cant *want* help but also youre a lazy piece of shit for not helping me more" god he whined (by which i mean muttered angrily in a way that scared me) sooooooo muuuuuuch about how he did everything ny himeself in thus house). "just.... stay in the front yard, kay son?" (gender in dreams is weird. it didnt hurt tho.)

he goes to the back yard. i can hear him digging. he's going to bury himself alive (idk id thats possible, but whatevwr. its a dream.)

i decide that i... sont really want to be there, at the moment.

i sneak back inaide. i grab: my backpack. a stuffed animal (it wasnt a specific one i think).

i start walking to the high school. meanwhile, my dad... keeps digging. he digs for hours. he gets a little drunk. i keep walking (but for me its not in a weird "yosh ur walking so long isnt thay spoooooky?" way irs j7st. thays what im doijng. my dad digging was in a that kind of way tho.

i realize that hes goinf to die. and i feel worried about living alone as a teenager in an emptu home. but i feel nothing but relief for his death (accurate)