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I was somewhere in the middle east staying in a shoddy hotel. The upstairs neighbors were total douche bags. They had no sense of common decency as they blared their music loud enough to shake my room. Apparently the noise complaints were so plentiful that the police had considered launching an investigation against them for violating public decency laws. I began to relish they idea of those assholes finally getting what they deserved.

The following night they did it again. I made sure to call the police this time. I don't remember them arriving but I do remember being out in the hallway on a bright sunny day. Then I was out at a concert with some friends I came with. A guy whom I will name Lance and a girl I will name Laura. I don't quite remember entering the theater with them but I do remember having to leave and return. When I came back I saw that Laura had a bruise on the right side of her face. I cannot quite recall her facial expression but I suspect that it was one of fear. Or perhaps she was feebly attempting to put on a smile and pretend that nothing was wrong. As I type this now I remember that this was the first time that I got a very clear look at Laura's face. She was white with short blond curly hair and blue eyes. That reddish brown bruise on her face told a story. One of fear and abuse at the hands of of her boyfriend Lance. I didn't say anything. I didn't know what to say. I just went into the concert with them and somehow ended up sitting between them. It just sort of happened that way. I didn't even realize what I had done until after I woke up and I still find it quite odd that Lance didn't say anything. I remember sitting there nervous. I couldn't help but wonder if he'd suddenly snap and start swinging in my direction. I don't quite remember why I had this fear.

The theater was an upscale one. Naturally the place was very dimly lit and all lights were pointed at the stage. The curtains were a dark yellow and there were all kinds of fancy designs along the walls. The kind you would see in a Victorian Era theater. There was a magician on stage. He was about to perform the greatest of tricks. This trick was so risky that all the members of the audience were required to sign liability wavers. I don't remember what the assistants looked like as they went around passing the wavers due in part to the fact that I was still focused on Lance. I just could not shake the feeling that this guy was super volatile. The feeling that he was always less than a bee's dick away from beating she shit out of me for no apparent reason. I was relieved when the ushers got to us with the wavers. I thought that that along with the show would be a good distraction for him. When the usher handed me the waver I noticed that it was enclosed in an envelope. The "waver" appeared to be a letter from my medical insurance provider. I did not question this until after I woke up literally one second later. My alarm went off.

This dream starts off with me as a passenger of a very old fashion car that looks like a vintage Model T without the canopy. The vehicle is severely lop-sided as the front left tire is normal, but the front right axel sports two tiny tires that look like they belong on a wooden pull wagon, not a car. I am in the backseat and the driver of the vehicle is a young woman dressed like a mennonite (in a pale beige dress), minus the bonnet to cover her light brown hair that has been pulled into a tight bun. I have on a grey mennonite dress as well but I think nothing of it in the dream even though I would never be caught dead in a dress in waking life. I know I am looking for something, but I an unable to say what, even when the young mennonite woman offers to help me search. It is for the search of that unknown thing that I have accepted a ride in her oddly designed car.

It is daytime and clear and we are somewhere deep in Southwestern Ontario's Mennonite country, as I remember it from childhood. It must of just stopped raining because the road is extremely bumpy and filled with deep muddy pits as well as various debris that looks as though it has been deposited in the middle of the road by a mud flow. I cannot remember asking the driver how we will get around all the debris and mud, though I do recall her saying that the old car was "tough and like a tank" and it could drive over, and through, anything. She proves this point when we come across what looks like a crushed silver sedan sticking out a shallow mud pit. The vintage vehicle seems to struggle a few times, especially with it's two tiny front wheels on the right side, but on the fourth or fifth attempt it is sucessfully able to drive over the crushed sedan.

There is a large white farmhouse a head of us in the distance that it sits in a depression in the landscape and is completely surrounded by water. The ground level of the building is no doubt flooded with water. As we drive closer the old vehicle slowly starts to become submerged and I am worried that it will stall, but it is strangely unaffected by the rising water level. The front door of the farmhouse opens as the driver parks the car and gets out. The woman who walks out of the farmhouse looks identical to the driver of the vintage car, only she is a bit taller and more corpulant, and is wearing a pale pink dress. It is obvious to me that they are sisters. The two of them seem completely oblivious to the muddy water that has flooded the entire farm even though it is knee deep.

They invite me into their home and allow me to look around at my leisure, but ask that I do not venture into the upper floors. While every room on the ground has been flooded, the water is relatively clean and clear, besides the occasional household object floating in it, unlike the murky and muddy water outside. In great contrast to the simplistic ideals of the mennonite lifestyle each room is decorated, even crammed, with old fashioned household items, knick-knacks, trinkets, oddities, toys and even the random out-of-place modern item, (like a brand new Spider Man plushie I found in a linen closet). Many of the rooms look more like a museum than a living space.

One stange thing I notice is that located in several rooms through the house there are three antique bisque dolls that have been tied together. The first group of three are all identical, dressed in earth tone Victorian fashion, blond curly hair and are tied toegther with what looks like twine. The doll on the far left is missing an eye. They are located in one of the first rooms, which I think is a lounge. The second group of three is located in what looks like a guest bedroom. The dolls are all identical looking with pale blue Victorian dresses, light brown hair and are tied together with a thin peice of red silk. The doll on the far left has a large crack down the middle of her face.

I find a narrow wooden staircase and sense what I am looking for up there. Before I go up I look through a nearby window and see a vast farmers field that is devoid of water and with large mounds spaced at regular intervals. Whatever is growing in the field is under the large mounds. I hear a faint "meow" and I suddenly realize/remember that I am looking for my cat Zrinyi. I quickly run up to the second floor and find her at the top of the stairs in a yellow cat carrier. There is a room beyond where I find my cat and the heavy wooden door is slightly ajar. I sneak a quick peek and see the last group of three dolls that are tied together. They are in what appears to be an old Victorian style office, sitting on the top shelf of a dark brown book case. The windows of the room have been boarded up and broken lines of light give little illumination to the heavily dusty room. The dolls have black dresses and are tied together with a thick peice of rope. None of the dolls have heads and the one on the far left looks as if it bled when the head was removed, as the white collar of it's dress has been stained red.

I hear one of the two sisters downstairs and quickly return to the ground level. I leave Zrinyi where she is and plan to return to get her. Now that I have found what I have been looking for, I am filled with a sense of urgency and desperately want to leave the farmhouse, but I suddenly feel like I am trapped and that I am not going to be allowed to leave. The sisters implore me to come and meet their father and brother. Up until this point I was unaware that there was anyone else in the house other than the two sisters since I had been through all the ground floor rooms and seen no one.

In a room that has suddenly appeared near the rear, right side of the house sits two men dressed in modern clothing on a modern sofa, staring at a large screen t.v with blank, glazed expressions on their faces. The sisters are frantically running back and forth trying to attending to every need and want of these men, and are completey ignored for their efforts. The room is heavy with anxiety and fear towards the two men, who have a dominating and meancing presence. I stand in one corner of the room and watch helplessly as the older of the two men (the father, I assume) starts to yell at the younger of the sisters for something, though I cannot remember what. He starts physically assaulting her and I yell at him to stop but he ignores me. Until I call him a "lazy misogynist," that is, then he turns is rage towards me and I flee from the room, but I am not scared and instead laugh, knowing that I struck a nerve and made the violent man react out of his own insecurity.

I run towards the narrow wooded stairs where Zrinyi is hidden, but instead I find the older of the two sisters at the bottom of the stairs holding the empty cat carrier. I realize at this point that the farmhouse is no longer flooded with water, but the floors have severe water damage and everything the water touched is now moldy and rotting. The older sister nods her head towards a nearby window and through it I can see the vast field that had the large mounds. It is newly plowed and through it runs hundred of black cats of all shapes and sizes. I think to myself "It's a black cat farm!" and know somehow that the cats had been grown from the field and where what was under the large mounds of dirt. I also realize that it is from my own black cat, Zrinyi, from which the "seeds" for these grown cats had been harvested, though I am not exactly sure how they did it.

I demand to know where my cat is but the woman in the pink dress just shrugs. She has a tired and worn look on her face. The dream becomes fuzzy at this point and I do not recall exactly how I found my cat, but I do so at some point, and try to flee from the farmhouse. The two sisters try to stop me but they tell me that they do not really want to, but will face further violence from their father if they do not try. I feel bad for the sisters, but I am tired of the entire place and just want to leave. I push them out of my way and storm out the front door which I first came through, with Zrinyi held tightly in my arms.