Soul Mate?
A relatively normal dream started out on the beach. Hundreds of people were swimming and enjoying themselves in the sun when the horizon suddenly fogged over. A hazy figure in the distance could be seem flying over the water, occasionally dropping down into the ocean and popping back up immediately. Apparently, it was pretty buoyant and couldn't stay under for too long. The craft hovered over the beach displaying its huge claw-like appendages before landing near the forest edge. A voice emanated from the craft, "You are all under arrest. Remain where you are so that you can be collected and brought back to our planet for questioning."
The aliens wanted to capture us, and all hell broke loose. People started running around the beach like crazy while one person announced that he was going to swim to the bottom of the ocean to hid from the aliens since their ship was so buoyant and couldn't make it to the bottom. I ran in the opposite direction into the forest where I found refuge in an old cabin. After I found a gun, I placed myself in the corner of the kitchen where the two hallways met. Carefully observing my surroundings, I held my ground until I spotted movement in the hallway to the left.
I turned and fired two shots into the shadowy figure at the end of the hall. There was no yelp of pain, only slight pause in the figure's movement toward me. He stepped into the light, and I recognized his face. It was Brian. (Now, I actually have never seen this person in real life, and it was defintely not the only Brian that I know. I can't really remember the dream Brian's face anymore either.) I had shot him in the left side of his abdomen, and he had another wound on his head, this one from escaping from the aliens.
I wrapped my arms around his shoulder, crying and begging for his forgiveness. I told him that I was just trying to protect myself, and that I would never kill him on purpose. He smiled and said that he wasn't dead yet. But I knew that I had probably hit some vital organs and that he would bleed internally until he lost consiousness and died... because of me. The rest of the dream was spent hiding in a soccer stadium and praying that I had not murdered Brian.
I woke up this morning terrified that a figment of my imagination was going to die, and I have being having these anxious flashes all day whenever I was struck by something that reminded me of the dream. I just thought that it was rather strange to be so worried about someone I don't recognize in a scenario that never happened.