My Stepmother's This I Believe-Personal Narrative

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Her dream couldn’t be real, I’m sure of it. My stepmother had a dream that something wrong would happen along my journey to London, I thought she was crazy. When the trip began, I had no idea I would meet so many people on the train! I dozed off for a little while but, when I woke up to a strange woman staring at me across the aisle I became alert as a guard dog. She was wearing an elegant outfit that consisted of only white. It seemed quite strange of her to have no color at all in her wardrobe, she seemed cold. Something about the woman made me uneasy, I don’t know if it was the way she dressed or the way she just sat there staring at me. She asked me if I would like to hear a story, I said yes so I didn’t seem rude. She told her stories as if she’d lived through them, or had at least been a witness to their awful fates. As I kept listening I felt as if I had actually been there too. They were like a dream, but more lifelike. I didn’t believe my stepmother about her odd dream at first, but now i’m not so sure that her dream is all that crazy. Not everything is how it seems in the world of
The stories she’s telling are so real that they’re draining the energy out of me word by word. I begin to wonder if that’s why everyone else on the train is sleeping, had she taken their energy with her stories? I know that I have to stay awake, but it’s getting harder and harder as the stories go on. I felt the urge to close my eyes and fall into a deep sleep, but I know I can’t. My stepmother’s dream kept coming back to me every few minutes. Now i’m sure that everything that had happened had some correlation to the dream she had the night before. Now I just have to wait for the train to start moving again, so I can get away from this horrid