I had taken Dad's pistol and been contemplating over and over on my bed whether I should use it. I would raise it to my head, lower it, raise it again. Eventually I ended up falling asleep. Throughout the night, I awoke from a nightmare, screaming. Dad came into the room to see if I was okay. He found me shouting and crying with the pistol on my nightstand. Lately, I've been dreaming a lot of open fields of grass in the mountains. There are paved paths, streams, goats and other animals roaming. The hills are a bitch to walk, but everyone in this town is used to it. There are no deserts around, it's lush. The yellows and oranges bloom in the May spring. I really enjoy myself here.