It’s confirmed, heat makes me get weird dreams. That and slight dehydration.
This was one of those dreams that began with me not being myself.
There had been a story for the past few years, a sort of myth that had been going around. Women and girls who were alone on the train or anywhere were abducted and simply disappeared. In their place, there would be a small Barbie doll, which looked a little bit like them.
So a young, working woman who was going home late one night was attacked. She fought back hard, not giving much ground until her assailant managed to drag her into a railway car, and then she was beateN into submission, I think. In her place they left a small brunette Barbie.
The scene cuts away into a cabin, where the “son” has taken the girl as his own. In the room there’s a pasty-white, pale like anything young teenager. She cowers in fear as the “father” looms over her, and then picks her up and puts her on the bed. The teenager’s eyes turns glassy as he does that. The father plays with his knife around the girl’s throat, and the camera looks towards the “son” and his new plaything. The woman looks fearfully towards the bed, but the son uses the flat end of his knife to turn her face away from what is happening on the bed. He doesn’t want to watch it either.
The teenager is killed, and unceremoniously dumped.
For a year, the woman is kept in slavery around the house. She has become the “wife” of the son. No escape attempts were made by her, at least not in the beginning, because she wanted to know how to get to a city first before she made the attempt.
The perspective changes to my own when a homely-looking woman comes up when the men are away one day. She insists that I follow her in the car. I knew I had to obey her or risk punishment, so I did. She drove the pickup to a restaurant area, and gave me RM5, asking me to run away. They would kill her, maybe, but she wanted to ensure I had a chance to escape.
I knew we were in the city area, and I immediately begged a guy to lend me his phone to call my dad. He looked at me weirdly and I did, but his phone was not working. As I was about to walk down to the payphone, the “father” suddenly appeared and shouted at me. I ran back to the restaurant area and screamed for help. The “father” stood at the end of the road, not willing to come after me in a crowded area.
Suddenly my dad turned up, and we were sort of reunited. The “father” now came up to my dad and they got into an argument about how I was the other’s daughter before punches started flying and I was shouting for anyone to call the cops.
They didn’t, but the “father” and my dad were finally pulled apart. I took dad’s phone trying to call the inspector in charge of my case but the number wasn’t in dad’s phone. I didn’t get enough time to open Google Maps to call up the police station there either.
The “father” and his “son” started sitting down to their own family dinner with the extended family, and I remember staying far away from them, in the light, with other people whom I knew would protect me but wouldn’t call the police for some reason.
I called bro and mom to tell them I was safe. We went to pick mom up. At mom’s “workplace” there was a customer who had known me from work who had the name “Melissa” something something who was complaining about the vase. Then I woke up.