Last night, I dreamed of a mother who had two children. 

She taught her first child, a son, to love music.

When her second child came, her son had a bad feeling about her pregnancy and he tried to warn her. 

The mother didn’t listen of course, thinking it was first-child-jealousy. 

She tried to teach her daughter to love music as well. 

But the daughter was insane.

She would bang her head against things and eat her own hair. 

She was demonic and probably needed to be exorcised.

The son tried to get away, but she somehow turned their home into a living hell—literally—there was an inferno in my dream and I could feel the heat of the flames on my body.

Then I realized that my dream was a movie and I was in a movie theater with a bunch of people who thought that the flames were real, too, so they were running away.

And I couldn’t breathe because there was so many flames.

And I was watching this scary movie by myself like a maniac.

The end.