01/11/2011
"Turf War"

I was in a hotel, I believe. My mom and Cierra were there. Mom had come out of the room, in a pair of roller blades and a black spandex outfit. She had lost a lot of weight and looked amazing.
(She has been working out really hard, lately.) She told me that she was going for a skate and asked if Cierra and I wanted to tag along. I remember just being really proud of her and not being able to believe how much younger she looked.
Later, we were all walking through the hood.
I had eventually become lucid, but I don't actually remember how or when. At some point, we came across a large gang milling around, outside of a house. They told us they were preparing for a war, and that a rival gang was coming to their block, to try to take over. They were pretty much recruiting everyone that could, to help fight, and since I was lucid, I figured what the hell.
Along came the insurgency. An enormous group of hoodlums came walking up the street, toward us. I didn't exactly count, but there were definitely 50 or more; tightly packed together, so that they all fit between the curbs of the two-lane street. Immediately, I broke ahead of "my own" gang, and started stalking toward them - smiling. I belted out something along the lines of :"Are you motherfuckers crazy?? You all have no idea what's about to happen, do you??" They didn't even give me the courtesy of a response. They simply opened fire. I continued walking forward, the bullets slamming into me me with all the brute force of pebbles at a concrete wall. I was calmly closing the gap between us, silently reveling in the can of whoop-ass I was about to open on these clowns. Suddenly, from off to my left, a huge dog came sprinting in toward me. I don't figure that it belonged to any of the other gang members, but that it was just a neighborhood stray. Before I could even react, it snapped it's jaws down on my right hand, pulling and tugging at me with the total force of it's body-weight. It really didn't hurt very much, but I couldn't ignore the raw power that was behind the rest of the dog. Even though I knew I was dreaming, and had dissociated from the biting sensation on my hand as best I could, the dog was still causing me to stumble back and almost trip over myself, trying to get free.
I don't remember anything after that.