Last night, I dreamt that I was in a movie with Macaulay Caulkin. He was jealous that I was the lead.
I walked up to a group of fellow actors and friends. There was a serious tone to the group and surprise that I was there. They told me that I was dead. I believed them to mean I was dead in the movie. That my character gets killed off. But it wasn't in the movie; I was dead and Macaulay Caulkin had killed me.
In a flashback, I saw myself being ambushed by the man who was the boy-actor from Home Alone. I love Home Alone, the first one (and secretly the second). There was a struggle. I saw myself fighting the man that made a comeback with such great films as Party Monster and Saved! Two amazing movies. Macaulay Caulkin outpowered me and, holding me from behind, shot me in the back of the head.
I can't say that I died in my dream, because I shot up in bed with excrutiating leg pain. Leg cramps. I didn't make any noise and there were no tears. If I had cried out, it would have hurt much more. I recovered from the cramp and got up to get the bottle of water on my desk.
My legs have been hurting all day. Sore from the contortions the muscles do when dehydrated.