I was in a big house, a really fancy and luxurious one. Maria W was with me. There was some kind of get-together going on, perhaps a party. One by one, the participants where getting butchered. Like, really carved-up butchered. It seemed that 'round every corner waited either the Joker (the Heath Ledger one from Dark Knight) or the guy in the mask from Scream. I'm pretty certain Jack Nicholson was around too, wearing a cop uniform. He's fucking scary when he smiles.
Me and Maria got away. We crawled out of the bedroom window. Suddenly I was back in the house, but the party was over. My entire family was there, all of them. I could see the guy in the Scream mask outside the window, and I tried to get my mom to go into the bathroom with me, 'cause it was some sort of Panic Room. She decided it wasn't necessary, even though she knew I had almost been killed earlier. She left. The big vault door closed, and then I knew that they had all been killed. All of them.
My first month in Taizé I was overcome with fear of anything happening to anyone in my family while I was away, before I could see them again. I must have spent hours upon hours praying to God to keep them safe, to let me see them all again.
I love my family. We're super strange and slightly disfunctional, and I love it. I love them all. Tell the people you love them, before a psycho breaks in to your house and goes Criminal Minds on their asses.