DREAM LOG #2; "THE HANG TRAIN"

I am arrested for false charges of murder and manslaughter.
The courtroom I am seated in is full of many who are close to me, and even those not so close to me. I hear a few of them muttering under their breath that this is ridiculous and unjust. That these charges are false and unnecessary.
I would try and make my own opinion heard as well, but this is a courtroom, so my voice doesn't matter as much as the one my lawyer has. My lawyer, who unfortunately, is absent.
The judge announces that I am to be hung from the neck until dead after being dropped from one the train system cars. I look up to the judge and stare blankly into his dark vile eyes.

The dream then cuts to me in the last train car on the tracks out of the several that make up the transportation locomotive. It is a fairly small car, and it is filled with roughly a dozen onlookers glaring at me. They're awaiting me to die for reasons they don't know, or can even begin to understand. They do not know me as a person, they just view me as a monster.
The officer in charge of the train car places the noose over my head and tightens it. Its clenching grip already beginning to squeeze the life out of me.
My parents and my love are there. My parents shedding tears and holding one another, while my love rushes up to me and begins to cry as she wraps her arms around me. Her tears already seeming to drench my shirt.
I only wish I could hug her in return, but I can't. All thanks to these blasted handcuffs placed tightly around my wrists. The wrists that belong to my hands, the hands that are seated uncomfortably behind my back.
She whispers things, and says several bits of language that I can't make out because of her continuous crying and emotions. I don't need to hear the words to know how she is feeling about this situation. I know how she feels about me dying, and I feel just as terrible for leaving her alone in this cruel world.
The onlookers aboard the train car begin to count down from 20.
I look down at my love, who looks up at me with her eyes so glazed in tears and sadness.
17.
I rest my head on her neck, and she hugs me again as I do.
14.
She drops to the floor in the puddle of her depression, and I look over to see my parents.
10.
My parents crying as well, still holding each other and bracing for my final moments of a beating heart.
6.
I close my eyes and try to wake up. This can't be happening. This is fake. I wouldn't murder someone.
3.
I look back down to my love, I tell her that I love her and will always be with her.
2.
She says the same back to me, and I smile at her.
1.
She smiles back.
0.
The beautiful smiling face that I am looking at turns to a blur as I am stripped out of the train through the door behind me. I am ripped out from my neck like an advanced version of the image of a dog collar getting pulled tightly on a pooch that has wandered barely farther then their owner would like them to. A collar ripping them back, off the ground, even. The rope whipping my body out like a pebble out of a slingshot. My neck feeling complete pain as it is gripped so strongly, as I continue flinging through the air, almost watching in slow motion as the train cars continue their movement along the tracks ahead at full speed.
I drop down now, mentally awaiting for my neck to snap and my life to be cut short.

I don't die.
My breathing calms back down as I rest there, hanging. Hanging 40 feet above the tracks. I wish I could look up to see how long this noose rope is, but I can't. The wrapped coil and constriction of the serpent-like grasp of the noose keeps my view on what is ahead, and what is below. No more or no less.

Train whistles blare, as I now see an oncoming train coming from the exact direction that the hanging train had just ventured. Was this the same train as before? A new one? Either way, I knew that if that thing ran smack into my body I would be finished. Not just maybe finished, like this hanging attempt, but certain death would skip and jump my way.
I began to swing. Swinging my legs forward and back, more and more. My body would move in unison with the swinging, and started to gain up more and more momentum.
The train was almost here now. As it was made it to the point of being only several feet away, I made one last swing forward.
My body casually shot through the doorway of the train, and the metal doorway where the door was not present, seemed to cut my noose rope like a razor to a thread.

I stood there in the train car. Looking at all these people. My lover and my parents weren't here, so this must've been a new train car. All I saw here was civilians looking for blood. Blood that they wouldn't find.
I gave the small audience one big smirk, as they kept on staring at me and the fact that I had cheated my sentencing. The fact that I didn't hang until termination.
My half-complete noose rested behind my feet on the ground of the train like a snake with its head cut off from its body. Dangerous at one point, but without the other pieces, its just the leftovers.
I glare and continue to smirk at the crowd.
And then say a line that could be described as perfect, or as something perfectly cheesy.
I say: "Death isn't calling me out to play today."
Then I woke up.

DREAM LOG #1; "COYOTES and SPANISH"

(( WARNING: Slighly Graphic Material within this Log ))

Last night's dreams included more coyote fights. The sky was laced with red and orange, as if the sun was choosing not to set, and was spreading its fiery anger across the entire globe in an attempt to start chaos. The coyotes were once again trying to kill me with their nice sharp teeth, and one even tried to claw at me while on its hind legs, standing as tall as I do.
These coyote dreams most likely happened because last night before falling asleep a bit after 1a.m. thanks to some sleep medications, I heard howling. I looked out the blinds of my window to see if maybe my nightmares would finally reveal themselves in the flesh again. Like they have several times before in different small interactions. But no coyotes could be spotted in the darkness. Not even the tiny bits of life reflecting from the highway lights could help me spot them.

As for the fight with the head coyote itself went, it was violent as always. He lashed at me with his teeth and gashed my chest and part of my shoulder. I could feel chunks of my body missing in those spots now, as I placed my fingers there to feel around for how bad these wounds might have been. In hopes of getting back at the beast for taking part of me, I used one of the farming tools from the barn (that actually do reside in the barn in the awoken life i live) and cut the coyote in half.
At the sight of the split coyote, the other coyotes began to whimper and cry as they trotted back to the fields and into the rows of blueberry bushes that reside along the hillside. The split coyote even turned his head towards me and growled, and then began to crawl off towards the bushes as well. With his lower body walking behind him.

The other dream involved a christmas party, held at a house I've never been. It was a short dream that involved many of the relatives on my mother's side of the family, who were all watching as I entered the room to talk with one of my aunts. Why I was talking to this specific aunt, I have no idea. But I was. And she was speaking in spanish to me. The interesting part of the dream is that I would speak spanish right back to her. Spanish that I actually do know in real life thanks to the courses I took back in high school.
The extra bit of info that makes this dream comedic is the fact that in real life this aunt doesn't speak spanish. But we hardly ever talk, as she is usually quiet at family gatherings. So it seems like she very well could be the type that speaks another language.