I'm at my parents' house. Alone. The lights are off (maybe the power is out?)
I feel anxious. I know he's watching me. I'm panicking, I look out the window of my old bedroom and see him. He's walking briskly towards the front door. I run to make sure the door is locked. It isn't. We reach the door at the same time and I lock it. We're staring at each other through the glass, our faces 12 or so inches apart. I'm staring directly into his eyes. His skin tone would be best described at "corpse gray" and he has liver spots on his bald head. His eyes are a deep deep silver.
I put my palms on the glass and he does the same. Then his eyes change. He looks angry. He starts to hit the glass violently with his hands. Louder and louder and harder and harder. (I don't know why..but) I do the same. We're both hitting our hands on the glass and it occurs to me that the glass might break if we keep hitting it. I stop and he continues, getting more violent.
I start to panic again. I run towards the back of the house, closing doors as I go (maybe he'll think I'm hiding behind them and check the other rooms while I'm escaping). I run into my old bedroom and lock the door, quietly.
I can't physically see him breaking through the glass in the front door from where I am but I can imagine it vividly. In my mind I can see him puncturing through, not caring about being cut by the shards left in the frame. He's clumsy. (He moves like one of the zombies in the Thriller video).
I can imagine him walking through the house and try to calculate where he could be, if he's close, and if I have time to escape.
I slowly and quietly climb onto an antique Singer sewing machine under my window and slide the glass as gently as possible as to not make the air pressure sound (it's the best way I can describe the sound when you first crack open a window).
I feel a wave of relief. I'm no longer panicked. I'm still scared, but I have hope now.
I can visualize him approaching my locked bedroom door but before I can even hear his clumsy footsteps on the hardwood, I jump.
It's only about 8 or 9 feet so I land on my feet. It hurts my ankles just enough to make me limp the first few steps. I see my car parked in the gravel by my dad's workshop. I run. (Thankfully) I have my keys in my hand with my car key already in position. I grab the handle, insert the key and then I wake up.
I'm awake now. Kind of. I'm scared of the dream, but I want to finish it....
I play out scenarios while I lay there with an uneasy stomach:
Do I go North or South out of my driveway? If I go South I have to deal with S curved roads with little to no shoulders. If I go North, I have the off chance of being pulled over. I can picture him suddenly beside me on the passenger side of my car while I'm stopped at a stop sign. He's reaching for my handle.
The dogs are in the house. The dogs are LOUD. Coco and Kelly, 2 West Highland White Terriers. They are loud when the man first comes to the front door of my parents' house. He furiously stares down at them. We don't hit the glass together like we did in the original dream, I see his angry eyes and run towards the back of the house. I hear the glass break. I'm not picturing the scene like in the original but I can hear him. I can hear them. The dogs are running, their nails scraping the wood floor as they search for me to save them. I know they'll lead him to my hiding place.
I open the window again and I can hear them whining frantically, tearing the bottom of the outside of my bedroom door. I jump. I run, terrified to my car. I can't hear the dogs anymore. I know they're not OK but I try not to think about it. I'm thankful they saved me in a sense.