I had another dream again last night. I dreamed I was in my own house, except that it was slightly larger and it had been overrun by zombies. Zombies of people I used to know.

My family and I were trying to clean our house up so we could get a good night's sleep before super-zombie-proofing our house the next day. It was me, my twin brothers, my grandmother, and one of my brothers whom was there in the last dream I had. Another brother had turned into a skinny person who bore no resemblance to my brother in real life. My oldest brother and my father were there too.

We cleaned up the house after some difficulty and strain, and then the skinny brother got pissy for some reason. He'd always had an attitude problem in the dream, not listening and stubbornly doing what he wanted to do. This wasn't good because in this zombie-infested place, we needed to stick together and obey each other to survive. But anyway, this brother had a fit and stomped off, telling me not to open the basement door or my oldest brother, whom he claimed was a zombie now, would get up. But then the basement door began to rattle and turn, and I heard a voice call out, asking to be let up, hurry, please! I hesitated, and the skinny brother yelled for me not to do it because the oldest brother was a zombie now. But a zombie couldn't talk. After a second I unlocked it, and with a jolt I realized it was my grandmother. She hurried up, and I quickly locked the door after her. I didn't much trust the skinny brother after that.

Then, we were in the back bedroom of my house, trying to huddle up for a night of hopefully restful sleep. The skinny brother didn't want to sleep,and kept going out and coming back in, traveling throughout the house. My dad slipped downstairs for something. I was yelling at the skinny brother to get back here and stay with us, when I stopped abruptly; a man I did not know had passed dazedly by the family room window, heading as though for the backyard. He had to be a zombie. I hissed for the skinny brother to come back, but he wouldn't listen. Then, suddenly, the front door opened and slammed shut. It did this twice more, from the wind perhaps, before the skinny brother, griping, appeared and tried to shut it. But he wasn't strong enough. I swore and started to head out. My grandmother told me to take the fire poker with me just in case. I nodded, grabbed it, and ran.

I got to the skinny brother and reprimanded him as we tried to shut the door. It was hard work, something was stuck and the wind was making it difficult. Then, a zombie appeared on the front step, shambling up. Even the skinny brother knew to be quiet now, so the both of us were quiet and leaned all our weight on the stubborn front door as the zombie scrabbled at the handle. Then it stuck its arm right through the window (where had the glass gone?) and began to feel around for us.

Then I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye. I turned my head. My father was coming towards us from the kitchen, but his skin was white and his eyes were glassy. He'd become a zombie too, most likely from the oldest brother whom was infected in the basement. As he shuffled towards us, I realized that meant the basement door had to be wide open now, leaving the rest of my family to attack.

My subconscious was frightened. It refused point blank to hurt my father.

So I forced myself awake.

It was five in the morning. I was beyond exhausted but I refused to go back to sleep, lest the dream annoyingly pick up right where it left off, as they sometimes do. I tossed and turned, refusing to let myself get within an inch of sleep. Eventually though, I did fall back asleep, from sheer exhaustion. I didn't dream after that.

It scared me, how determined I was not to hurt my father. He's more fragile than what any one of us in our family wants to admit, with his habits, his hobbies, his age, his mental state. Granted, his personality more than makes up for it by being unkind and rude in general, but every person is a person, and this person happens to be my father.

What if something happened that turned people into zombies? And my father turned? Would I be able to kill him?

It would almost be worth getting bitten to have one last hug from him.

More later.