Another dramatic dream I had last night.
It’s Hari Raya and we have guests visiting our house. Suddenly a group of people in a jeep attacks us. Four of the guests who are family close friends take positions to guard the house. I’m sleeping under a blanket when I hear one of them calls my name. The one I call uncle and has been the closest to me since childhood. I don’t know where my parents or everyone else are. He says we need to hurry so he carries me to the car. On the way to the car he suddenly apologises for what he’s about to do. He then pulls out a gun. We struggle and he shoots me in the back. It turns out he was one of the bad guys. He also kills the other three friends.
I don’t feel the pain from the bullet, but the betrayal, the disappointment. I was in his arms. I died in his fucking arms.
The uncle was Dave Bautista by the way. Yup