I had 2 very vivid dreams in the same night this week. Each woke me from my sleep, and I can still recall many details from them both.

The first dream featured my childhood best friend, Chris. In the summer of 1989, when my family moved into our house in Hampton, Chris' family lived 2 doors down. I don't recall exactly when, but I'm sure that we met until after kindergarten began. We bonded instantly and were soon like brothers. Even on school nights, we'd divide time between my house and his. We accompanied each other on vacations, to family reunions, etc. We fought with and for each other and planned to travel the world together after high school.

When we were in 7th grade, his father abruptly (2 weeks notice) moved the family back to Georgia. And I fell apart. I had other good friends, but my brother would no longer be there, so nothing really mattered to me. We talked regularly on the phone and that helped us both cope for a while.

I saw him once after when he came back to visit a year later, but by then he was girl-crazy and noticeably rougher around the edges. His interests had changed. He picked fights and cursed a LOT more. Obviously, it wasn't the same. He returned to Georgia. I mourned that lost friendship for quite some time, but stayed up on his life through an aunt that still lived in VA.

His dad moved the family around a lot, so keeping in touch became impossible. We spoke our freshman year of college in 2002. He had, literally, become a pimp. He told me about all the "bad bitches" he had working for him, providing him a nice lifestyle. And that was the last time I spoke to him.

I just needed to get that out.

Now, in my dream last night, I was sitting on my car in front of our house in Hampton. This was during the holidays, in the present. Chris drove slowly past the house in an SUV. There was an Asian woman in the passenger seat, and a child in the back. He slammed on breaks, as if he had forgotten I lived there. He jumped out of the car, we embraced and reconnected like old times.

He'd grown to be taller than his dad, who was at least 6'3". He was still skinny as all hell, as expected. The woman was his wife. Their two-year old son sat in the back seat. He turned his life around, became an activist, and was doing quite well. I was elated to see my brother again.

He had some appointment to keep, so we exchanged numbers and promised to keep in touch. He got back in the SUV, strapped his son in, and started up the car to drive off.

Then the SUV exploded.

I got burned across my face and torso from being so close.

And then I jumped up, sweating, shaking a little, unable to go back to sleep for about an hour. It felt SO real. I searched my face and torso for burns in vain.

I drifted back to sleep and was back in my neighborhood, in a larger version of my house in Hampton. Dozens of friends and family members were there, eating dinner and having a dope time. Suddenly Lil Wayne shows up. Yea, I don't know why either. He was a normal dinner guest. Normal, conservative clothes. No entourage. No gold teeth. No rapist face tattoos.

Suddenly he disappeared. And then houseguests started dying. It was a scene from a horror movie. Most of the dream was spent hiding from Wayne and watching loved ones die. Each murder brought him more pleasure. Somehow, I wound up hiding above a doorway (don't know how) and when he crept into the room I dramatically swooped down and stabbed him with a pencil in the temple or neck (can't remember which).

He melted.

All dead houseguests came back to life and the party continued as if nothing happened. Not sure what these dreams mean. Both were extremely vivid. Both involve loved ones dying.

This morning I was startled by another death-related dream. I was back in my old room in my parent's house in Hampton. While cleaning, I looked out the window to see an unfamiliar car parked in the middle of the yard. The driver vaguely resembled my uncle Jerome, who died in 1995 of Cancer (two days after my birthday). From my window, I watched him turn and face what appeared to be a child's car seat in the back of the car. He raised his arm, and fired a gun into the car seat. I couldn't see whether there was a baby in the seat. He then faced forward, and shot himself in the head.

I jumped up again, awake as hell. Scared to go back to sleep. I wrote it out in my journal, unable to find the reasoning or explanation behind this or the other dreams.

Any thoughts?