I had a really sad dream last night!
I don't know what I was supposed to be, but it was me and a few other people and we had machine guns. And we were running. From my sister... and a black man and a few other people.
Where we were running was like a mixture of different places, sewn together in my mind-- I ran behind Ali's house (which is in Marlton) and tried to hide behind a bush, but I was spotted, so I ran out towards the street of the neighborhood (which was Carriagebrook Farms or whatever, which is located in Voorhees. The 'farms' part of the title might throw you off, but it's a very suburban neighborhood).
I ran, and the first person, a girl, is running after me, and I'm outpacing her... But then the black man comes and he's super fast and is catching up to me and---

There's a scene cut in my head, and it's me, part of my group, and then the black man, my sister, and the girl from her group. We all had guns-- they looked like toys, but they really weren't. Their guns ran out of ammo, so they really could be toys. I reloaded mine with about 6-8 bullets, the last ones we have, and tried to hurt them or kill them or anything at all to get them away from me. We were all just standing next to a pickup truck on someone's back porch, by the way. So I shot, bang bang bang, and no matter where I aimed, it always seemed to miss or have no effect. I ran out of bullets and then ran for my life.

Cut back to the street. Amanda has replaced the girl but the black guy's still there. They didn't have guns, but they did have weapons. I had nothing. I ran to a house, the closest house, and rang the doorbell a bajillion times. Amanda and the guy were about to catch up. I was bleeding and crying and eventually I gave up on the homeowner and let myself into the house just as the two were pulling on my arm. I slammed the glass door behind me, then locked it, and then slammed the storm door and locked it too.
I called out, "Hello? HELLO?"
A woman, the homeowner, appeared on the stairs.
"What're you doing here? Was that you making all of that ruckus outside?" She acted like nothing was really wrong, like I wasn't covered in tears and blood, like I hadn't rung her doorbell thousands of times. She acted like I was a little kid who was just was stirring up a racket to annoy the adults. Well fuck her.
"My sister's trying to kill me." I told her.
"Oh dear, well, you can stay here honey!"
What the fuuuuuuck.

For some reason, at that point, I decided to unlock the storm door and open it up. The glass door was still locked and the lady was still on the staircase behind me. I was still crying. Looking furiously at me through the glass was the black man and my sister, the assassin.
At an instant, the memories of our childhood and our bond swept through my mind in a flash. How she calls me 'hister-poo' and I call her 'Flopsy'.
Even in my dream, it felt like my heart was in a vice and it hurt. There was a kind of hopelessness and despair to the whole situation; like I didn't know her anymore.
That's when I said,
"Even though you're trying to kill me, are you still my sister?"

I don't know why she didn't bother breaking through the glass to kill me. Either way, that's when I woke up.