The dream shifts and the girls are upstairs talking. I'm in the yard and my brother Erick is drunk off his ass and trying to get up the stairs to be funny with the girls. Erick's sense of humor is even more abrassive than my own, and drunk, it's a doozey. Erick is sober now-a-days so him being drunk is especially distressing. He wanders up the stairs and then he slips and falls and I hear his head crack on the stairs. He hits the ground and I hear him quietly sobbing. I also hear blood flowing out of him at such a rate as to be audible, like flowing water. I start screaming for my dad. Suddenly Erick and my dad are our next door neighbors. My dad answers grumpily "what do you want?"
"Come out here?"
"What do you want?"
I'm freaking out. I scream, "Call 911! Call 911!" and I put my hand over the hole in Erick's skull, to hold in the blood but I know it's too late. I know he's as good as dead now and that there's nothing I can do. I hope that it's a dream as I try to wake up and thank god, it works, and I wake up. But every time I close my eyes Erick's there, bleeding and I have to actually get out of bed and get some water to get completely free of the dream.