This morning I dreamt that I was lying on a cold table, and there were people all around me; a doctor in a zip-up white-collared shirt rolled up my sleeve, held a syringe with some greenish liquid, and I looked at it, and then I felt real horror, right there in my sleep. They say you can't feel anything in your dreams, and I don't know if that's true or not, but when he stuck the needle into my arm, I felt the prick. I also felt the liquid running through me. As if it were a boombox, I could hear my heart, beating slower and slower, each thud knocking the wind out of me. I couldn't breathe, suffocating in my sleep, lungs burning, and my heart completely stopped, everything started fading out. I knew this was the End. There's no terror like that. And then I woke up, probably from the fact that I hadn't been breathing because the dream had paralyzed me.

Ninth period at school, I learned that three hours past my dream, a rapist/murderer had been executed by lethal injection. Weird coincidence, huh?