In the dream, I am running away from some group of people in the woods behind and beside my parents house. A short distance away I see someone else running through the woods, fumble around in some bushes and then stumble down to the ground.
Upon closer inspection, I am surprised to find that it is my father. He has bloody scrapes on both knees, fresh scratches oozing rich, dark red blood all across his face. It was a terrifying sight. He looks up to me helplessly, asking me how much money I have.
Who or what had attacked him, and why? Was the money for hospital bills, ransom? None of that changed my state of anxiety in my knowledge of the fact that I could hardly help myself, let alone whatever help he might need. In retrospect, he almost seems to be in the position I have often been in: running to them for help. Maybe this dream this was just the inverse manifestation. All throughout my following dreams I kept telling myself to remember that scene, to write it down when I woke up. It seemed somehow important.