Keitorin's Dream Log

A group of people including me are performing an operation, We’re inside a house stealthily moving around as we take down black-clothed people. When we’re done, I go into the bedrooms to make sure we didn’t miss any adults. I turn the light on and see kids asleep. They’re Japanese. In the other bedroom, the mother is sleeping.

Before we leave, I pause and tell them to go ahead. They pause and look at me before going.

I start looking around the house and things. In the kitchen, I grab a box. I’m looking at stuff on a shelf and see a bunch of writing utensils. I reach over to grab some and the pile shifts but doesn’t fall. I see a golden gel pen and take it before going in the kitchen again.

I get confused as I look down and see my small box and a bigger box nearby, I thought I had moved to that one. So I grab it instead. I see some framed photos of my family (mainly me and my sister as kids) on the fridge and a bit confused, take them down and put them in the box.

I worry the police will suspect us if I do that, so I take the cut out magazine strips beside them to make it look like a burglary.

There is a chainsaw running outside the bedrooms but the inhabitants don’t make an appearance. They appear able to sleep through anything.

I come across some of my clothes. I’m feeling a little befuddled as if things have changed on me, because suddenly this is the place I live [not IWL]. I take a few of the clothes (‘won’t I need these?’). What alibi are we going to give since we live here too??

I go near the right bedroom and hear one of the children talking - a boy. He says, “We can do that later.” Talking about future plans for the day. I realize he knows English from going to school here. I think about my level of Japanese.

I realize I need to get moving. As a leave, I hear them calling for their mom. “Mommy?”

Apparently we had killed the mother. I realized they were calling to her and getting no response, so they would investigate soon.

I head outside where the team is waiting. There are about six of us, including my parents.

One of them holds out some of my clothes, including a pair of underwear, as I approach.

“”We need to go. Now.” I say.

“Too late.” Someone says as the family rushes out from the house. We hurriedly get into the car and start to drive away.

A montage thing whites out the screen of the kids and their father without their mom, as her smiling face floats across the screen. The father had blond hair and the mother auburn.

I think, ‘That’s sad.’

Notes: And then my nose started bleeding and I had to type one-handed. Darn summer.