Had a dream there was a stalker in my kitchen. I was in the living room, which is connected to the kitchen. I did not know this, so when I got a phone call from my mum (Also in the kitchen) I was rather confused. She told me that she was (This bit is foggy) proud of me, then stuff about why she was proud of me. Again, I found this weird, so got up and was about to go through the door and into the kitchen.
That's when I noticed the stalker.
He must have come through the door without me noticing it, and was holding a frying pan of all things. My dream self was really calm, but I could almost taste my hidden shock and turmoil. I just stood there, and the stalker (Who was hunched over and twisted) started praising me, then saying he'd asked my mum to praise me too. So, I figured it would be a good idea to play this to my advantage, and asked the stalker for the frying pan, which looked rather heavy. He promptly gave it, and I pushed him as I went through into the kitchen.
My mum was sitting on one of the kitchen chairs, her head on the table. When she saw me she mumbled something about the weird man hitting her with a frying pan after the phone call. My sister was lying on the ground, a thin trail of blood seeping from her nose. I presumed that she, also, had been hit. That is when I woke up.
Not full awake, more an "I am awake enough to know I want to sleep regardless of that dream" awake. Apparently my mind had other ideas. My eyes were half open, and weighted down with sleep. Despite this, they could still see the darker blotch of shadow on the ceiling. It was slowly making its way towards me,and I scrambled to wake fully up. My eyes would open, then fall again. Somehow I knew that the void approaching me was going to kill me, so I practically lunged for my lamp to turn it on. Thankfully, this worked, and because I didn't particularly feel like turning the lamp off again I read the Gunslinger book until light came through my window. I then slept peacefully until now, when I woke up.
The strange thing is that upon waking I went to look closely at the bit of ceiling where the dark void had originated from. There was a minuscule crack that ran roughly as wide as the void had been. And there it was, stretching across my ceiling, what my sleep deprived mind can only comprehend as "The portal from whence it came."
That was one messed up dream.