Someone may have jumped off our building. I woke up very early and rushed over to my back window. I scratched blindly in the dark at the blinds to try to see what was going on.
“It looks like a suicide.” Two men were outside and they looked up at me. I quickly let the blinds close and then I heard a knock at the door. I remember putting some pants on and speaking to a policeman. I knew the person he is talking about. “He got so angry the other day. He just kept screaming, ‘fuck!'”, I said. This part I know is true because it was a daytime memory.
I couldn’t get back to sleep but I didn’t hear or see anything else. If someone had died right outside then surely there would have been more stuff happening. This is where is I get really confused. These sorts of things aren’t dreams but I am not sure if they are reality. I hope like hell that I am not walking around in my pyjamas or underwear or exiting my apartment. I hope that people don’t see me peering through the window like a creep and I hope that they don’t hear me having conversations with people who may or may not exist.
Later in the morning I stepped outside and looked for proof that it actually happened but there was nothing. Not even a blade of grass was bent out of place.