Wow, brain. Wow.

Last night I dreamed that my brother and sister were murdered and buried in a shallow, shared grave in my parents' backyard.

I remember going through the initial grief, and then trying to maintain my composure, doing well for a while, and then thinking about being an only child for the rest of my life. I remember standing on the grave without realizing it, and watching the dirt — red clay — shift to show a bit of someone's sleeve beneath it. Then I remember having a complete sobbing breakdown on the floor/ground, complete with heaves and honks and drool and snot bubbles and convulsions. I remember my parents trying to comfort me.

There's more, but it's all gotten quite foggy and I'd rather put it behind me anyway.

This may be the most fucked-up dream I've ever had.

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