I'm in a dorm room that belong to me at a college. I'm texting some federal agent who's trying to get some information from me. I catch him in a lie and I have proof of his conspiracy to kill people who won't listen to him on my phone now.
My dad is sitting on my bed and collapses. I pick him up and he fits in the palm of my hands. I run outside, hesitating for a second whether I should grab my cell phone or not. I leave without it. I run around the corner through some doors and run down the hallway where the ER is at. I yell for help, I yell that my dad is dying and for anyone to help me. No one listens. Finally, a nurse comes and disgustingly looks at my dad, who's still as small as the palm of my hands, and asks "What is THAT?", "That's my dad, I yell at her!! Help him!" I'm crying, I don't know what to do. She grabs him from me. I sit down and cry.
I realize my cell phone is still upstairs and my room is unlocked. The feds could come in and grab the only evidence I have. I run upstairs, I can't pick my feet up [I hate slow motion running in dreams. Gah!]. I pass one of the federal agents down the hall [who looks like one of the CPD cops in my Master's program] and he smiles at me mischievously. I open my room door and my cell phone is gone. I run back down to the federal agent and yell at him, "I know you took my phone! You took it! I know what you did! You're killing people and I know it!!"
He just looks at me pretending he doesn't know what I'm talking about. I run outside to get to the other building where my dad is being taken care of. It's really muddy and pouring really hard. There's a little stream I must cross to get to the building. I take off my shoes and step in the stream, it's all muddy, I try to get across.
And then... I wake up.
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