Neighborhood

For the past few days, people in my dream have begun to talk. They have actual conversations with me, rather than implied ones. There mouths move, and they have facial expressions and personality. They are people I no longer recognize. I don't understand what brought on this change; perhaps a shift in my personality. 

Regardless, last nights dream began in my neighborhood. I was walking with some black haired girl, I don't remember her name or face. We saw a white house, and she asked to go speak to the lady there. The lady wore a long skirt, and her hair was auburn. She let's us in, and we walk around her house and to the back, where it opens up like a greek temple. From a distance, I can see two grave like holes dug into the concrete. I get nervous. As I get closer, the graves shift into one, and beside her are a pile of small caskets. Within the hole are dozens more. They're dead babies. The girl beside me starts talking to her. It occurs to me now, she's acting the way I normally would have to. She's more assertive than me, leading the charge, while I stand behind her. Maybe she's a facet of my personality.

She asks the woman if this is a church, and she replies, yes, it sort of is, isn't it? It strikes me that this woman is crazy. She's not throwing the coffins delicately into the pit; she's tossing them rather lackadaisically. One of them breaks, and because I'm behind the girl I don't see too much... just the red smear on the white floor. 

We run. We dash right down the road, but the girl asks me to stop, to first go to Grant's house. Grant is someone in my school, but he doesn't appear. We turn left, and stop outside a house with a white fence. We've a purpose for being here, but I don't remember what.

The dream shifts and I'm in a shelter-like place. It's realistic. It's a homeless shelter I think, and there is a group of down on their luck Santa Claus at the front, getting food I think. The room is filled with chairs, and the chairs people. My dad is near the front, sitting, and I smile and take out my camera. One of them smiles back, and it's world weary, but he seems very nice. I have the urge to sit in one of the Santa's laps, but he seems particularly depressed, almost as if he blends into the wall, and I resist. 

I speak to my mother, the girl with black hair is gone. We get into an argument over a videogame. I think I tell her she can't do something. Like play a videogame. The word 'jigsaw' comes to mind. I don't know why, or if this refers to the murder movie, or what. The fight is fairly intense. I leave for my home, and go to bed. My dad is there, so I curl up beside him, it looks comfortable. Like in a very old videogame, I summon up protection, in the form of rockets and silver minesweeper balls. They go back and forth over head, and I spam them- they move back and forth over me and the bed and it's obvious I used a cheat. My mom comes to bed and her own powerups are small and few in comparison. She doesn't like it. 

Worth noting, the use of shade has also shifted into a more realistic zone in my dreams. The bedroom was a soft gray, the auditorium the color it should be, if it were unlighted and rather dim. Everything is getting very realistic.