Circa 2011

I was in a house, near the front door. It was daylight outside. In the house with me was my mother. I was trying to stop three men from taking her somewhere. The men were all former drinking buddies of hers, all of them dead of alcoholism. An asshole named Gary, Carl Whiteside and Randy, my uncle.

I was telling them that they couldn't take her with them. I wouldn't permit it. It just flat out wasn't happening and to fuck off. 

Gary was yelling at me, "It's my truck! I'm driving!" The other two were silent.

I simply said, "I don't give a fuck whose truck it is, you're not taking her anywhere."

And they didn't.

Circa 1983

I'm in my classroom at school but it's nighttime. I have the feeling that the world is reversed. Half the students are gone and the rest are frozen at their desks. The teacher is frozen, too. I get up from my place, afraid. A low, dense fog swirls around the room, around my knees.

I try to run away but my legs are heavy, slow. I'm in an alley. The fog is still there. A white van approaches and a man gets out. He has a dark beard and is wearing mechanic's overalls and a knit beanie. He starts towards me and I turn away in fear. He's going to hurt me.

But when I turn, he's there, getting closer. I turn again and again he's there. Everywhere I look, he's there, in the fog.

I know I'm about to die.