March 26, 2012

There was a robot like Cain, from "Robocop 2" in my village. It was my own creation but it was malfunctioning: it had frequent mood changes. It had already killed some kid who was the brother of a blonde young woman who was staying at my house in the small village where I live.
...

At the point from which I can remember, me and her were at the back of my home garden, and I was trying to make her trust my robot again. In a matter of seconds the robot changed his mood again and hit her in the side of the head and face, drenching her white 90s t-shirt with blood. We began running away from there, passed my green iron gate heading to the hill top (where I usually run to in similar dream situations). The robot was slow, but stopped at nothing. We ran with great dificulty as people usually do in dreams, as if trying to move fast under water. Halfway to the hill we realized it was necessary for each of us to load an enormous black iron bar on our backs; maybe these bars were other parts of the robot. The bars were so heavy we had to crawl with them. The robot was nowhere to be spotted but we felt it was coming without stopping for a second. The bars were so heavy we couldn't manage to look back.
... .  .   .

I woke up with the feeling something was wrong. I remembered of I... .
Then I remembered the blonde girl with her shirt drenched in blood.