Last night I dreamed that my dad was driving me home with random members of my family - my older sister, her husband, and my maternal grandmother. As we drove along the Aston Expressway, I realised I was looking forward to spending time with my family. I had missed them, these people who accept me for I am, and who care about me. People who make me believe that the world is not such a bad and scary place after all. I felt warm and content to be going home.

Then my real-world alarm clock woke me up. It was a shame to leave that dream.

Sometimes my mom is still alive in my dreams. I tell her she's supposed to be dead, but she always has an explanation - she's a ghost, they buried her mistakenly, she was only sleeping... Strangely, I'm never happy that she's alive. I only feel dread and disappointment.

Here's one such dream. My mom was in the kitchen, smiling and making dinner. Except... something was amiss. A problem that no-one else seemed to notice. The air grew cold.

I hesitated, then told my mom, "You're dead."

She looked up at me and smiled sadistically. I knew her secret. She began to walk at me with a knife. I raised my arms defensively and slowly backed up into the living room. My dad was watching TV, and my brother and sister were talking on the sofa, as if everything was normal. And... I think I woke up at this point.