nightmare

(I had this dream a long time ago, and it was a reoccurring dream for some time, so it really stuck with me)

My friends had picked me up for Friendly’s in a rusty old jeep, and it was very small. There were five of us, and I was in the back right seat. We drove to the top of my street and took a left. I’d hardly ever been that way before, so everything was different than how I now know it to be. There were a lot of pine trees along the right side of the street, but there were also a lot of houses. The ground was covered in orange pine needles. We were getting close to the edge of the end of the street when one of my friends said:
“Man, we’re gonna twist that place up!”
I was confused, because I had no idea what he meant, then I noticed a gun at his side. I understood what they were going to do. Images flashed in my mind of them lighting up a cute little Friendly’s restaurant. I then hopped out of the car as it was moving and they kept going.
This was at a time when I didn’t have a cell phone, so I ran down the street. I was heading to my house, but I saw a yard sale going on, so I went to them. As I was turning into the yard, a tall old man with long hair and a short beard came out from behind one of the trees. He seemed very sinister. He asked for me to follow him, but I said no and went to the people at the yard sale.
“You need to call 911! My friends, they’re gonna shoot people at Friendly’s!”
They were completely oblivious to my existence.
I turned to run back home, Ran down the streets and into the woods. I went through as quickly as possible, but I had this weird feeling that I was being watched. I kept looking up, expecting someone to be in the trees. I then turned around and saw the old man following me, and started running. I got back to my house (which actually looked more like my aunt’s house), and my dad was in the kitchen getting supper ready (but they’ve been divorced since forever). I started to walk into the living room.
My dad quickly said, “Watch out, we’ve got someone over painting the living room.”
I went in and up on a step ladder, in a greyish teal jumpsuit, was the old man. He turned and smiled at me. I screamed and went to the kitchen to grab a knife, but then I saw my dad.
The dishwasher was open, and he was bent, leaning over it, impaled with the silverware. I turned around and the old man was right there, with a knife. He went to stab me, but I grabbed his arm. We struggled for a bit, but I turned the knife on him and cut his throat. My mom came in and grabbed the knife from his hands. I could tell something was different about her. She began to chase me around the house, but I found one of those plastic shovels that come with buckets, for kids at the beach. We were in the dining room (not really significant, but whatever) and I turned around.
“You’re not my real mom!”
Then, in a very creepy, multiple-voices-at-a-time voice, she said “Oh, but I am!”
I concluded that she was possessed, and hesitantly shoved it into her chest as hard as I could. It didn’t go too deep, but she started bleeding. She then collapsed, dead. I started crying, because even though I probably just killed a demon, I’d killed my mom along with it.

Moral of the story: Don't get sidetracked, a lot of people probably died at that Friendly's.