I’m running as fast as I can through the familiar hallways. Kids my age surround me. Familiar faces run in the same direction away from the man, but they have nothing to worry about, he’s chasing me and only me. I don’t know how I know this, but I just do. Ammunition is shooting past me, leaving a ringing noise in my ears, narrowly missing my skin by inches. I see a bullet bury itself into a closed light blue locker, and all I’m thinking is I’m glad that’s not me. I’m almost to the nearest exit, when I feel an instant searing pain in my right arm. I glance at my arm. The moment I do, I immediately regret it. I scream in agony, as I see the blood encasing my arm in red. I wake up screaming, heart pounding, covered in a thick layer of sweat. It was just another dream, or more like a nightmare. I quickly sit up, the nightmare, what was the nightmare about? I can’t remember. It’s like the moment I woke up, it trapped itself in a box in my subconscious mind, and I can’t find the right key to open it. To open the nightmare that might be the difference between life and death. “No, I can’t think like this”, I whisper to myself. I try to clear the idea that for once, my nightmare might lead to death, from my mind. I mean I have a nightmare at least once a week, and it never turns out to be anything serious. All I know is that this is going to be a bad day. For as long as anyone can remember everyone’s dreams have always come true. Literally. You dream something the night before, and the next day it just happens. No one knows how it happens, it just does. But with good dreams, come nightmares. If you have a nightmare, it comes all too true. It’s like your whole life is planned out through your dreams, whether they’re good or bad. While the dreams do tell about the next day, they have limit. They won’t predict the whole day, just fragments. Many people have theories of why our dreams just magically become r