I was walking through my neighbourhood late at night - on my way to the 7-11, I believe. I passed by a man on the sidewalk, but didn't pay much attention to his approach. He didn't seem to pay me any attention, either. That was, until as I stepped by him, he grabbed my arm. At first, I thought it was a mistake and I apologized, like I had bumped into him. A second later, I realized that the contact wasn't an accident and he was pulling me into an alleyway with a large dumpster.

At first I panicked. It wasn't the potential rape that frightened me as much as the potential death. With all of the stories of sadist killers bombarding the news these days, my mind went right to the thought, "He could kill me". I had to think fast. I was struggling and pulling back at first, not wanting him to get me into the sheltered alley. Then I remembered a story a friend of mine told me about an attempted rape she shewed.

She was standing in her kitchen and it was a hot day, so her back door (backing onto her backyard, which backed onto an alley) was wide open. At one point she turned around and there was a large man she didn't recognize standing in her kitchen. He attacked her and, instead of fighting back, her mind went to reason. She thought, "if rape is about power, then I have to threaten that power." So, instead of fighting it or going limp, she became the aggressor. She started saying things like, "I was wondering when you were finally going to come in and f&%k me." "What's amatter? Can't you get hard?" "C'mon baby, stop taking your time. You're driving me wild!" The result? He got frustrated, hit her hard and ran out. She suffered a bad bruise, but it was much better than the other option.

So, back in my dream, my survivor mind went to this example and I stopped resisting his pull and flung myself against the man, pinning him to the brick wall of the building. I started kissing him and talking dirty to him and groping him madly. In my dream, this surge of my own personal power actually turned me on. He seemed confused, tried to get 'into it' and was noticeably shaken. He let go of me and looked at me. I kept up the aggressor act and tried to pin him again. Only it backfired a bit and he said, "Let's go back to my place". I played along and followed him.

When we got into his place, I became more aggressive right inside of the doorway. He backed off and told me that he would be right back. He just needed to go to the washroom and 'fix something'. He gestured me to the dingy sofa in the small room. I went and sat down, but as soon as he left the room, I bolted. I ran out the door and down the street as fast as I could. But it was in one of those dreams where no matter how fast you run, you just can't get anywhere fast. I did make it to the 7-11, though, where I stood at the door, watching to see if he followed me.

Some time passed by and I figured I had narrowly escaped a bad fate, but there was no way I was going to walk the 6 blocks back home in case he was waiting in the shadows again. Instead of calling home for Ken or calling 911, I spotted a cab pulling up and decided to take it home.

I got in and gave the driver my address and he started driving. He turned in the wrong direction immediately, but I didn't say anything until he turned away from my place again. "I'm not an out-of-towner, I know you are taking me for a ride. My destination is the other way." The driver didn't answer me. Because I was scared of the night, I didn't try to get out of the car. We started driving down a hill, lined with forest (I don't know where that came from, because there is nowhere near my neighbourhood that fits that description) and I started to feel scared again.

It was then that I noticed the driver wasn't alone in the front seat. Another man turned around and looked at me and gave me a menacing smile. As darkness enveloped the car, he held up a black balloon with a skull and crossbones on it, "Morte" he said. I couldn't decipher it at first, so I yelled, "What?!" "Morte."

And then I realized he meant I was to die.