I just slept and I dreamed about that an angry mob of young punks came and killed my parents. And I, of course, took a shotgun and annihilated all of them. Alone. Somehow, because I'm so cool and, like, good with aiming XD. Like, I don't know, it was kind of a power dream. But at the same time I just turned around and looked at my dead parents and wondered what did I even lose, you know, because they weren't there for me anyways.
The thing is, honestly I didn't even try to save my mother, I only tried to save my father, because he was the only one who actually meant something to me a little bit. And in the dream, the punks were like... They wanted to take down the bourgeoisie or something, I don't know. And thought a middle class family was one of them. And then wanted to kill all of us because my dad did tax cuts or something and cheated, and people like him are why the economy is shitty and stuff. Or something. My dad was leading some kind of double life as a rich person that took taxes, or that didn't pay taxes or something, to fill his own pockets. He was also the only one I felt a little bit of sadness for when he died, because of what could have been again. Because again, the grief of losing him isn't for what we had, but what we didn't. Because he kind of abandoned me after I grew big enough to go to school maybe.
In the end I was just standing in a mountain of bodies, just feeling empty.
