When I woke up, I instinctively walked into the kitchen. I noticed something that I hadn't seen before: a stain on the wall. I didn't think it was unusual, but I pondered the possible cause of such a stain. Perhaps a boiling pot of tomato sauce had spattered there.
I stood there, staring at the wall. As I examined the stain, I realized it was much larger than I had originally thought. It didn't look like tomato sauce anymore, either. I began to think it looked like a bloodstain. I followed it with my eyes until I saw a body print, like someone had leaned against the wall, covered in blood.
Below me I noticed a trail of blood on the floor. It led into the living room. I continued toward it until I found the source, the woman. She wasn't an actual woman, but more like a vision. She was only there in the abstract.
When I woke up, I realized I've got to stop dreaming about this woman. She lived here before me. She died here.
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