It started a while after my oldest sister's best friend died. I was really close with her; she was like another sister to me, and her parents often went out to eat with mine.
We'll call my sister's friend Blaire. Blaire's funeral was a vivid memory for me.
It was the first time I'd been to a funeral of someone so close to me and seeing her lifeless body in the coffin traumatised me as a child.
After that, it felt like I was going to die soon as well. Life felt shorter... and more painful.
Around a week after attending Blaire's funeral, I started to have strange nightmares.
In one I was walking around my house, except it was drenched in blood and illuminated with a deep, red light. I could feel the cold blood on my hands and smell the putrid stench.
The experience didn't scare me as much as it confused me. How could I smell the blood? How could I feel it? I asked my parents about it and they didn't understand much either.
I concluded it was a lucid dream, even though deep down- I knew that wasn't it.
The next nightmare scared me a lot more. In it I was lying in a dark river in what seemed like a cave of some sort with stalactites hanging from above.
My hands and feet were tied together tightly and I could feel the agonizing burning of the rough texture cutting into my flesh. However, the most horrifying thing...
I was surrounded by floating corpses. I woke up in the middle of the night after having this outrageous nightmare and ran to my parent's room.
They still shook their head and said that it was probably nothing. After that, everything felt wrong.
It felt as though I was reaching the light at the end of the tunnel, I can't explain the feeling in any other way.
And the nightmares didn't stop there. They came night after night, each one more petrifying than the last. The last one I had, however, was the worst.
I was walking around my house in the middle of the night. First to my two sisters' shared room. I stood at the entrance, staring at them for a while, before pulling out a gun.
I was shaken, even though I was dreaming. Before anything else could happen... I shot them. I did the same to every member of my family, watching them experience a silent, excruciating death.
I jolted awake in a pool of cold sweat. Tears started rolling down my face. I didn't understand why any of this would happen to me.
That same day, everything in my body hurt for some reason and I would flinch at the quietest sound. I lost the will to live. I wanted all of this to end.
My parents made me sleep with my older sister the next night because I couldn't sleep on my own without getting scared.
The next night, I woke up in the middle of the night, not because of a nightmare though. I heard a sound from across the hall. I looked over to my sister who was also awake.
Without speaking, we both slowly got up and peeked through the ajar door of my room. I saw a dark silhouette enter my two younger sisters' room across the hall from mine. Then...
BANG! My heart dropped... "No way" I thought to myself. No way... Then again, another loud shot. The figure stepped out, dragging two bodies into the hall. I looked at its face.
It was Blaire's mother! My heart, originally thumping and colliding with my chest, stopped. The floor was drenched with blood, and the revolting stench made me retch.
My sister pulled me back, in fear that she might see us. I was numb, couldn't feel anything but horrified.
This just had to be another dream! Yet I didn't stop staring, my eyes following her every movement. She then moved into my younger brother's room, coming out dragging another small body.
My parents came rushing upstairs after hearing the first two shots. Another two deafening shots left their lifeless bodies falling to the ground. She jolted her head in our direction.
I didn't care to move, to hide in the shadows. She stared at me. "My family was ruined. I couldn't stand to see you all living my previous perfect life.
Y-you understand right?" The words echoed for a while in the silence of the night.
After a moment, she looked at her gun. Back at us. Back at the gun. I didn't care to run, to jump out of the window.
She looked back at me one last time, before pointing the gun at her forehead and pulling the trigger in one, sharp, sudden movement.
After the incident, my sister and I called the police. It was found that Blaire's mother had killed two other families, both families of Blaire's friends.
Their bodies were found floating in a river near our house. I had predicted it. My dreams had shown me what would happen. Now it all made sense. I felt helpless. Everything lost its meaning.
I lost a reason to live after that. They were all gone; the people who had constructed my life were gone. The pain was so bad that I couldn't even cry.
It has been fifteen years since that incident. I lead a stable life, good career, but I'm still alone. I can't stand having close relationships with people anymore- let alone live with them.
I live in fear of everything now. Sometimes I wish that Blaire's mom would have shot me first. At least then someone would do something useful with their life.
I will forever be haunted, with the memories of that month fifteen years ago. Forever...