I was running on a road between a field of cornstalks and a trench full of black water. Somebody in the black water was swimming after me. A man a few years older than I (twenty six maybe) stepped out wearing a clown suit completely dry. I raced into the cornfield falling to my knees in a random patch of daisies; he grabbed at my white dress and I ran away. I suddenly was in the big city and it was night. I raced up the fire escape to the roof top. He was already standing there wearing black. I into the building and dashed down the stairs. I was watching a mob hang out playing . The man caught up with me and I darted down the stairs into the busy streets. I almost was hit by a 40s town car. I climbed in and the pin up woman drove me to an apartment building. “Fifth floor, room 03” she handed me a newspaper. The front page had the mans face plastered across it. The title had been blurred so I couldn’t read it. I raced up to the apartment and stepped inside the dark apartment and went straight to the kitchen. I needed to calm down.
The man suddenly came down the hallway wearing this time a white t-shirt and he stopped and stared at me. “Get out of my house” I grabbed a butcher knife from the drawer “Stop following me” I was panicked. “Than stop running” he said. “If you touch me I’ll kill you” I threatened. He stepped forward and took my right hand with his left one and we stood in silence which struck me as weird. I suddenly sliced his left wrist exactly 9 times, and his eyes widened. He grabbed a smaller knife in his hand for protection. I dropped my knife to the floor and he set his knife down looking relieved. “I can’t hurt you… I can’t hurt anybody” I raced into the hallway and ran into a bedroom. He stormed in and pressed a towel to his wrist cursing. He picked me up and set me on the maroon bedspread. The color red stood out to me. I waited for him to hurt me. Nothing I opened my eyes. He was staring at me with the towel pressed to his wrist. “What in the hell is wrong with you?” he asked. “Go away” I said. “No” he said. I didn’t want to be reminded of cutting him; the idea shook me.” What do you want?” I asked. “My wife to calm down” he said. “I can’t help you there” I said quietly. “I’m talking about you, were married” he said as the smoke of smoke started curling through the window. In reality I am not married and I don’t intend to be until I’m in my late twenties. I noticed the ring on his finger almost identical to mines and he showed me 9 gashes in his wrist. Something in me clicked I just started bawling hard. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry” the fire began burning the walls and we sat on the bed.
I woke up.

Can anyone help me?