remember
Yesterday it was a countdown of numbers. 666, 555, 222, 555, 222 2222, 222, 111, and then running across James Johnson St.
I had a dream where my brother called me, freaking out and sobbing and melting down, saying to donate his body to medical science in November. He kept saying it was too much, things were different now and there was no going back, and he couldn't undo it. While I was attempting to calm him down and figure out what "it" was, my phone died.
I rushed to my car, fumbling to plug the phone into a car charger and start the car, and realized I was running out of time. Suddenly I warped to my brother's neighborhood, where I was already full sprint. I made it outside of his house, only to see no one was home. I was so panicky I woke up, at it was 2:22AM. My heart was racing and it was almost like I ran straight out of my dream into real life.
I took my phone and went to the bathroom, and called my brother despite the time. No answer. Texted him this morning asking how he was going, and I know it's out of the blue and probably intrusive but I had a dream that has me worried.
He called me shortly after and let me know about him feeling guilty about not knowing a lot about my grandma and her life, and he wants to get me, him and my sister to visit her and ask her about her relationship with my grandpa more.
So that's something, and we can go from there.