Carolina and I were in a house where Ramey was living in Columbus, Ohio. I left Carolina in a bedroom on the second floor and I went downstairs to the kitchen, where I found Ramey. I was happy to see him. In good shape (probably in his early 30's), he seemed in a good mood.

Several pieces of antique furniture were in the kitchen. I figured Ramey had probably been investing in the furniture. In particular I noticed a peculiar-looking baby crib which was collapsible so the side bars folded over to the bottom of the crib. I thought the crib was interesting.

I recalled that years before I had sold some of my old comic books to Ramey and his father. I asked him what they had done with the comics. Ramey said his father had sold the comics he had and had invested the money. I figured his father must have made good money from the comics. I recalled that I had sold my Spiderman comics to Ramey and I recalled that Ramey had said he intended to keep those. I was surprised when he told me that he still had them. I told him the Spiderman comics were worth a lot of money, but he obviously already knew that. I would love to have those comics back, but I knew I couldn't.

Some other fellows were also in the kitchen. I walked out and left Ramey with them. I walked into the adjoining room where there was no one. Abruptly, however, a short black fellow (around 20 years old) walked in the back door. He was carrying a gun. I thought I recognized him as a fellow who lived with Ramey. I walked over to him, grabbed him and held him in my arms, as if I were capturing him. However, I quickly let him go. Almost immediately I realized he wasn't the fellow I thought he was -- I didn't know him at all.

I was startled to see a second, much bigger, black fellow walk in the door. He was carrying a big machine gun. Obviously the men were here to rob the place. I thought they might shoot everyone in the process. They told me to walk ahead of them through the house. I walked through some rooms with them following, until we encountered yet a third black fellow with a gun.

Suddenly they all began firing their guns into a concrete wall. One of them pulled out another hand gun and fired it into the wall. Suddenly one of them hollered that the police were outside.

We were now standing at the top of the stairs leading down to the basement. When the men were distracted, I bolted down the stairs. I heard some more shots fired and I thought the men might be firing at me, but I managed to turn a corner and flee through an intricate set of passageways.

I was uncertain whether anyone was following me. When I saw a hole up high at the top of one of the walls, I thought I might be able to crawl back under the house.

I also thought about Carolina. I didn't think the black fellows would go upstairs where she was because apparently the police had arrived. So I thought she would be safe.

Copyright 2004 by luciddreamer2k@gmail.com