There's nothing like dreaming about an 800 pound giant chasing after you, to make you come straight up out of your bed.

I was working in some sort of diner. A hole in the wall actually. It was smaller than my bedroom and built entirely out of untreated, unpainted wooden slats. My boss told me to go home, business was slow and I wasn't needed for the rest of the day.

Can't say I was upset about that.

On my way home I noticed his car. A bright yellow thing, it seemed huge but I knew it was actually a relatively small car. It was his size that made it seem so much bigger than the others. How an 800 pound man could fit into a VW Bug was beyond me. I tried to look away, I didn't want to draw attention to myself. It'd only make him angry.

I heard the ignition start and knew I was in trouble.

I did the only thing you could do when a bright yellow Volkswagen is barreling down on you at high speeds...I ran between the buildings. This didn't daunt him though, he just stopped the vehicle and started running after me, two friends in tow.

At least he was easy to spot. He was wearing a bright yellow jacket that matched the paint on the car. He was always wearing that jacket, it was his signature piece of clothing. That and the heavy gold chains around his neck and the gun squeezed between the taut waistband of his pants and his stomach. He was angry at me, the growls emitting from him stirred me on faster.

As is the way of dreams, I seemed to run in slow motion. Unfortunately he didn't, so as I approached the house where my sisters resided he caught up with me.

Pain was my companion for a time.

The next thing I remembered was laying on the dirt yard in front of the house. A large truck parked in the driveway, my sisters in the house screaming. I couldn't get up, couldn't even attempt to move. The pain was too great. There was also a metal collar around my neck with a heavy chain attached to an iron post. I was his pet now, his play thing to do with as he pleased.


The sounds of breaking glass, of flesh beating against flesh stirred something inside me. My instinct for self preservation was gone, I was ready to die to give up the agony my body was putting me through but I couldn't let my sisters suffer as I was. It was anger building inside me, pushing the pain away and giving me strength to rise from the dusty ground.

Somehow I broke free of my leash, though the collar remained, slicing into my delicate white skin and leaving bloody scratches behind. He emerged from the house, his hand gripping the hair of one of my sisters.

My body trembled with rage.

I'm not sure what happened next. I screamed at him, I filled my lungs with air and my voice with the rage I felt and screamed. Either the sound scared him, or I had some supernatural power in the dream that allowed me to push him away. Fill him with fear the likes of which he'd probably never experienced before. All I know is that he and his two friends ran down the road without looking back. My sister stared at me wide-eyed.

Then they smiled and embraced me.

We went into the house to clean up, to try and remove my shackle. I remember moving about the house, noticing a wooden table/desk and near it another wooden table. This is the one my grandmother gave me. The thought flitted through my mind and was gone as I stared at the odd configuration of wood. It was thin and had three long areas that made it form a Y.

Three sisters, three points to the table and three evil men. What is the significance of that number?

I shook off the odd feeling and turned around, pain erupted in my face. My vision blurred as I fell heavily to the floor. I had felt too safe, been too wrapped in my thoughts and hadn't noticed the silence in the house. Hadn't heard the door creak open. Hadn't heard his heavy foot steps as he came down the hall behind me.

And now I was his again.

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