I'm twelve. I don't know if I am supposed to be ME when I WAS twelve, or if I am some one else who IS twelve (which is what I am leaning towards in hindsight). But I know I am twelve, and I know I am sleeping over at my friend's "house". It isn't really her house. Her Mom and Dad are going through a divorce (a really bad one) and her and her Mom have been living with her (my friends) uncle and aunt. I don't know which of the two of them is the sibling to the mother. We sleep on the couch - we're small enough to fit on it feet to feet, and we watch scary movies all night and eat pop corn until we passed out. I know all of this when I "wake up" in the dream.
I wake up and the uncle is shaking me and my friend awake. A woman is screaming and sobbing in the back ground. The house is dark still - its not yet morning, and the room is lit in the inconsistent light from static on the television in front of the couch. My eyes are burry, my head is still thick with sleep. But I can hear the panic in his voice, something is really wrong. My chest tightens in flight or fight. My brain clears, and I start to look around - my friend is just starting to wake up like I am. A man is crumpled on the floor in front of the couch before us. The blood is like a lake. The Couch is a make shift raft on a pool of blood that encompasses the man and continues to engulf the couch. That explains why My friends uncle is crouching on the couch, kneeling half on our feet. I don't know why but it just makes sense to me. I don't know if he jumped over the blood, and the corpse to the couch to us. But it lends the feel that we are all clinging to this sofa shaped life raft in an impossible amount of blood.
A woman is still bellowing in the back ground. All this rest happens so fast, its all so discombobulating that I don't know the how or the what. But I think the uncle tells us that the dead man is my friends dad - or she knew and recognized him and he confirmed it was him. The Dead man is her father. Her mother is upstairs, and she is dead as well. He broke in, found the sleeping mother, stabbed her to death, and then came down stairs. They don't know if he intended to kill my friend as well - maybe he did and changed his mind, maybe he saw us there and thought she was happy with friends etc, and didn't want to take that. I don't know. But he killed him self - put the knife into his chest. That is why he was crumpled on the floor in front of us.
At some point the uncle isn't with us on the couch any more. He is with the aunt across the room. She is covered in blood, and crying, and destroyed. I figure she must have been my friends mom's sister. Then something happens. I feel something in the air like steam, or a current rippling through water cuts through the air. And everything in me wants to run. I look behind me towards the grey light of the TV and onto the floor with the bloodless man. The air blurs, something moves past me from the ground and the area of the corpse. It feels like hot sticky wind and I go all goose pimply as I turn in the direction the mass headed. The uncles voice suddenly drops by several octaves and sounds warbled like an old record. His candor towards his wife switches from consoling her and mumbling about the police getting there to squeezing her arms and that voice coming out of him.
"YoU kNoW i'Ve BeEn UnDeR a LoT of PrESsuRe!" Roars out of the uncle. The voice is like an angry river, it isn't human. I want to run SO bad. I think he is possessed. Maybe by the dead father. I don't know. I think of things I see in movies. Ways to stop him. I feel my hands go numb. Its something bigger. Some thing impossible. I want to run. I wake up instead.