Nightmare

There are several nightmares from my childhood I still remember vividly, but in this particular dream, I was at least partially aware that nothing in front of me was real. I'm still unsure whether that was a good thing or not...

I was running. My mom and dad were running. my brothers and sister were running. We were all running from the bad men. The men who wanted to kill us. 

Run, run, run.

Faster. 

Then we were all in a warehouse, or an abandoned store. And the men caught up to us. They pulled out knives. The leader approached me; my dad was next to me, but it wouldn't matter. They'd stab us, and we'd die. Then I had a real light bulb moment: I was dreaming! 

They wouldn't kill us.

They couldn't kill us! 

Nothing here is real.

No one could hurt us, me. This was my dream, my nightmare. I just had to wake up. If I could just make myself wake up... 

I'd have to die. 

That always works, right? Falling out of a car, down the stairs, off a cloud in the sky, whatever. If I died, I'd wake up, because everything was fake. 

So I addressed the man holding knife near my heart. 

"Can you make it quick?"

And despite my plan, and my knowledge that he was merely a figment of my imagination, my blood ran cold as he laughed before stepping even closer and-