Asthenia

My mind often forgets what my gender is when I am within the realm of a dream. Sometimes I'm a boy and sometimes I'm a girl, I have even switched genders part way through.

In this one dream, I was a young boy living with his brother in a suburban home. Our parents had passed away a few months back and we were still trying to hide this information from authorities. We continued on wishing to live on our own without a foster parent because we knew that would mean moving to a different home and possibly a different school. The bills for the house kept coming and we could only tell the telephone that our parents were in the showers so many times before suspicion arose.

When it was found out that we were living on our own an estranged grandfather was given charge of us and the property. It was not like we had feared but in another way, this was much worse. There was a reason we had never been brought to meet this man. He was a child abuser. As soon as he arrived he made plans to do some landscaping, all the labor was done by brother and I. He didn't like the speed I was working so he pushed me down into the hole I had dug and pushed his brown plad covered pelvis into my face, all the while mocking me and calling me a faggot.

The last thing I remember before I wake is my back against the muddy wall and my pedophile grandfather leering over me, smiling a bit as he unzipped his trousers.

Sometimes I wonder if some dreams are portals into alternate realities.