A couple nights ago I dreamed that there were ghosts in my home, which, in my dream, was a large, beautiful house. In my dream, I started hearing voices and I thought I was going crazy, and then I saw shadows leaping on the wall. I don't remember what happened after that, except for extreme fear. I don't remember the next part, I just remember skipping to the part where I went to school, and I met this beautiful, tall, thin blonde girl. We became friends. All the boys who used to like me liked her much better than me. And then I don't know how, but I died and became a ghost. (It was the first time I've ever died in a dream.) Well, I could still communicate with the living, and my blonde friend tried to help me out by sticking with me. People could see me only when I chose to appear to them, sometimes I was visible, sometimes not. I became so depressed though that I was a ghost and not alive, that I broke down in tears. And then the dream ended.