True, but that's not the case here. Have some Choplin. Disjointed. Tonight I dreamt I was a vampire, and that I was being hunted for it. By dream logic, it was rather straight forward: run and hide, keep away from the sun, don't let your fangs and white skin reveal you. There was also a large and grand gathering: much like one of Hogwarts' many celebrations, and they set fire to the floor underneath our seats to flush us out. It worked. We had to run. Being able to masquerade myself before, that frail disguise was now gone. Flushed into something akin to a ghetto, a group of other bloodsuckers, all dressed in Gothic black, that came after me in fellow flight debated the resting place for the day - sunlight remained fatal. One of them followed me when our present location turned out to be sun baked come morning. She had long hair, pale complexion and red eyes. Moving further into the abandoned district, we came upon a decaying house. Mowing through not the main door, but squeaky, we entered the building. A lingering sense of light unease and a small hope of us keeping undiscovered mixed with my already existing emotions. Around that time I woke up. It had been a good dream, despite everything.