The Dress and The Piano

I was with a friend, walking through a "shopping mall". I opened the door to the carpark. I saw a drop of blood on the floor.

Gulp.

Beginning to feel scared, I looked around anxiously. Then I saw him! A man, coming out from a car that had a bloody hand sticking out from the car door. The man looked at us and slowly slid away.
I waved my hands helplessly in the air, trying to think what to do.

Call the police. Get the police. Run to the police. I thought to myself.

My friend was faster than me. He hurried the police to the scene. All I could do was point them to that direction. I was freaked! The police saw the suspect but they didn't chase him.

Instead, the police turned to us and said:" Can you idetify him?"

I nodded. The police then turned thier attention to the victim.

The incident haunted my mind. Everywhere I turned; every dark corner or alley I had to pass; gave me the shivers. I was afraid that man would return to kill me. I was the only who could identify him. Of course he would want to get rid of all witnesses right.

I was hallucinating how that man would suddenly appear out of no where. It was eerie. And the whole dream was in complete silence. ( You know how they do that in movies, complete silence, especially when the bad guy is going to pop out).

Nonetheless, I had to get ready to meet Jason.

In a distance, I could hear him playing the grand piano. It was lovely. I have never heard Jason play like that before. Some jazz classical fusion. Strange but true, he, in a suit and all, was performing on a stage. Siap with a mini circular "stadium-like" atmosphere, with chinese "ah lian" aunties sitting on the red cushioned seats that circulated the stage; each row a bit higher than the previous.

I was ready. I walked down to the stage through the red carpet opening that seperate the seats. Jason was still hammering his classical melodies on the piano. All around me, I could hear the aunties, who by now had shifted their attention to the lady walking down. They began whispering in cantonese:" Wah, hou leng oh"; " bing kao lei ge?"; " sam hou leng.".

I looked at myself.

I was wearing a flowery cheongsam-like dress. The dress sweeped the floor as I walked, so I had to lift it abit. It was a magnificent dress. Shades of beautiful colours with beautiful flowers on it. Wow, how does my brain come up with these kind of things in my dream. Even my hair was all done up with ornaments on it; my face glowing with make up.

I met Jason on stage. I bet all the aunties were anticipating what's going to happen next. However, the manager of the shopping mall, which now looked like a hotel, called for the attention of the ladies, saying that they would have to buy their tickets if they were to participate in the "sale". All the ladies shot out from their seats and quickly hurried themselves to the manager, hoping to reach their first. I suppose kiasu-ness for the sale comes first, KPC-ness comes second; cause all of them forgot we were there.

So we slipped away quietly, off the stage. While walking to the car, I must have related the incident to him, as he was comforting me and I was clinching to him everytime we took a turn or passed by a dark area.

We got into the car safely. I had no idea where we were going but it must be important, for us to be wearing something so formal.

We took off. Driving on, he began telling me some story that I was not really listening to because I was waiting for him to say: you look beautiful today.
He didn't. Hmmm. Somebody knock his head please. (Evon, you can do the honour. Haha. :p) Instead, he was urging me to respond to his story, giving me cues to respond.

He rambled :" So i was blah blah blah...ok say 'Ahhhh'...here."
"Ahhh", I said as I looked at him.
"Then, blah blah blah...ok you need to say "wow"...here."
"Wow", I repeated.

And so on and so forth.

I noticed a car tailgating us from behind. They look like mischevious young guys who were making themselves deaf in the car. They over took us. I didn't bother looking at them.

Then, the dream became a blur.

But I remember dreaming about other things which I'm still trying to firgure out if they are connected.

A murderer who turns in a Komodo dragon.
I called it stupid so it wanted to kill me.
I knew it was a murderer.
I killed it instead.
I pushed it down a drain hole that had boiling hot acid (Did this come from Pastor Philip's Bukit Jalil incident?).
It burned to smitterins.
The police were after me for killing someone.
I had to convince somone that that Komodo dragon is a human.
And that THAT human was a murderer.
But how?

Oh. The agony of not knowing.