I saw a navy blue car parked in a residential street in north-west London, from the back. It was night. I was then in my nan, PC's livingroom.She was sitting on the sofa. I was standing, looking in the mirror above the fireplace. She kept telling me there was a letter for me, under the other sofa cushion. I was getting angry, telling her I didn't care about it. She was insistent I look at the letter. Eventually, after quarreling for some moments, she retrieved the letter. It was not in an envelope, but it was two A4 pieces of paper, stapled at the top left corner. From the back, I could see through the paper - there were some typed words and some editing in thick black marker pen. I screamed at PC that the letter did not matter, as it was years old and related to university. She started reading the letter. I sat at her feet. She looked at me and I stared back. She was crying. I felt terrible.
I was then alone in the living-room. I became aware that a young, white male with light hair had entered the house. I do not know who he was or remember anything else about him. I had a deep sense of dread. I knew something terrible was about to happen. I said: "You're going to rape me, aren't you?" and he said: "Yes, that's why I'm here..." He walked through the door, from the hallway into the living-room. He lunged at me, grabbing me from behind. I started kicking at him and found a large knife in my pocket. I stabbed it backwards, over my head at him. He fell away from me, and tried to make his way out of the house, although I do not think I caught him with the blade. I knew he had my purse. I ran after him and jumped on his back, putting the knife at his throat. He let go of my purse and made an escape from the house. I walked outside, and once on the garden path, checked that all my money and cards were still in my purse. They were. I went out to the roadside. There was a car parked outside the house, with three young males leaning on it. Two were white, one was black. They asked me if I was OK. I said: "I nearly got raped in there" and they expressed shock.
I was then in a state where I was unsure of my surroundings. I could hear a song - a melody and words (I cannot recall what song which was, it was lost upon waking). I was tasked with the job of identifying the song. I knew it in the dream, but could not remember the name of the song or the artist and was becoming frustrated. A female voice - detached, I could not see its owner - told me I had failed. My new job was to count porcelain racehorses which were running in laps around a racetrack. Every time one of the 'diseased' horses passed the position in which I was standing, I had to sing a song (again, I cannot remember it).
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