This happened last night:
It all started with . . .
I was sitting in a grand hall way, playing with toy trains. I could tell I was a little boy, even though I'm a girl. A young man looked down from the blacony of the second floor, the chandalier sparkling on his face. I can't describe his face though, I never see faces, I just know who people are, sometimes. Anyways, he called down to me.
"(Name, I don't know names really either) come upstairs now! It's time for bed,"
"Yes father," The man was my father, but not my real father, like in real life now. I pushed my trains to the side and went upstairs.
I'm not very good at remembering dreams. I could've told yoe this earlier, but I've forgotten it by now. I just remember that My grandfather, myself and my dad were all still living, we were all fairly old too. I was close to my dad. Now, for the next part.
I'm sitting against a bed, my dad and my grandfather are talking a little ways away from me. My fathers 60, I'm 35 and my grandfather is 80. I'm clutching my knees to my chest, trying to listen.
"We need to find it, I know we can find it," my grandfather says. I don't remember the rest of the conversation, but I remember them speaking about an alien who had left something in this room, and they could find it under the bed and something about alien spit. Then it skips forward acouple years, and I'm searching the bed with my real life dog Pepper. I tell him to look under the bed because I see a little trail of Alien spit. Then, he comes out eating a blondie (brownie with no chocolate) and I grab his snout, pulling his jaws apart with my fingers. I'm older here, 50 or so. I rip the small part of the blondie out of his mouth and run to the same front hall where I was playing with trains when I was little. I scream into the hall "CALL HIM!" meaning my Grandfather. The dream was so passionate that I actually murmered call him in real life, waking my self and my sister.
When I woke up, I knew my "dad" hadn't called my grandfather, and I was so sad I felt like crying.