I had a dream last night that I was at the house where I grew up. I went upstairs to see if anyone was home. My dad was taking a nap on their bed. Only, he wasn't taking a nap. I realized he had died in his sleep. My mom would be home soon, and I didn't want to call a coroner or anyone until she saw him. I went downstairs, but became incredibly creeped out that there was a dead body upstairs. So I called my friend to come over and keep me company. I opened the door, and instead of the person I had called, it was John Marovich.

"It's okay. I know what you're going through."

I immediately woke up.

The most disturbing part of the dream was the fact that the last time I dreamt about John Marovich, his father had died. That was years ago.