My 13-year-old brother, David, and I were riding in the back of a red pickup truck driven by our 17-year-old brother. We were going slowly down the highway near our house and were about to turn into our driveway when an identical red truck came up behind us. The passenger in this truck was a man with shaggy yellow-blonde hair, about shoulder-length but layered, and a rough face as if he had gotten too much exposure to the elements. He started yelling some sort of threat, like "I'm going to get you" and I think he threatened David specifically by name.

My other brother saw this and floored the gas, and I was clinging to the truck and to David, screaming "I love you, David" over and over again. We were going faster and faster, and then the man jumped out of the truck and began to run behind us. He was almost at us, and I knew that it was supernatural to be able to run that fast, but I kept clinging to my brother and screaming "I love you, David" and the man was making fun of me and threatening my brother.

Suddenly it was my other brother behind us, standing still and quickly left helplessly in the distance, and I turned and looked in the cab of the truck and it was the shaggy-haired man. He turned around and laughed and began tormenting us again. The truck turned and started going the opposite direction, and we passed going a string of red trucks just like ours and then a string of identical tan old-person cars with identical old ladies behind the wheel headed the opposite way. The yellow-haired man was sitting facing backward, not driving, but the truck did not crash.

I was screaming my brother's name when I woke up. He was sleeping next to me and my scream that woke me up woke him up, too. He asked me why I had gotten into bed with him, and I was confused because it was my bed, not his. There were strange people sleeping on the couch where David had been sleeping (due to remodeling my bed was in the living room and he was sleeping on the couch there). We all woke up and went to sit on a small, waiting-room type sofa to sit facing the door, which had a screen asking for a password and scrolled the message "no sneaking out."

I started to tell David about my dream, but was interrupted by the guy at the other end of the couch saying "and then..." and beginning to give details that were not a part of my dream. I told him to be quiet or he would confuse me and I wouldn't remember my dream. He said that I should be quiet so *he* wouldn't forget *his* dream, and I was very pissed off because I didn't know who he was, didn't see why he could matter in my house, and didn't see how his dream could possibly be as significant as mine. Then David got up and left the room, and I was going to follow him when I woke up for real.

I am assuming this stemmed from my contemplation earlier of the scene in The Truth Machine where a five-year-old sees his three-year-old brother carried off by a man. I had been thinking what I would do if someone was taking my brother, thinking that waiting for 911 people would take too long. I thought of running out with a gun, but I don't know how to shoot, and the guy could shield his body with my brother's. Finally, I wondered whether I could volunteer to go in my brother's place, and just pray that he would accept the trade-in and spare my brother. I hadn't thought of this extensively, but I suppose the thoughts came back to haunt me in the form of a dream.