May 16, 2015: The dream started when I was trying to take a magical gem encrusted gold sword out of a weird shell-like thing. Once I finally did (it apparently took awhile, as I remember having seen the sword before and having tried to take it out before), I went to my best friend, Logan and, hiding it behind my back the best that i can (it was a very long sword), I asked him what makes me so awesome. When he said what, I pulled the sword out from behind me and said "Because I'm the Chosen One!"
Oddly enough, he didn't look very impressed, but he did point out how an inch of the blade at the end was bent pretty badly. Frowning slightly, I went to my parents and showed them the bent tip, so they took it to the bathroom and pulled out wands, and broke one of them. Upon the breaking of this, a blue-white light shined out of it, clearly being the essence of magic. They put the energy to area it was bent, and imbued the sword further with magic; allowing it to repair itself and not be damaged again... but sacrificing my parents ability to use magic
Before it was complete, an old man came to us, seeking to stop the resurrection of the magical sword. Thought it wasn't done, I grabbed my sword and tried to stop him, but he grabbed the sword, letting his hand bleed as he tried to get past me. I tried to push back, but all it did was make his hand get injured worse as he went past me. I begun chanting, so that when he got the bathroom, I decided to use the ability the sword contained. Pulling the blade away from his hand, and putting it to the back of his neck, I shouted "Poison Blade!"
By this point, I simply wanted him to die, but, even with the poison in his veins and the blood gushing out from his hand, he stood up again, I pushed him out of the bathroom, pressing the tip to his chest until I cried 'Fire! FIre!" This caused fire to shoot out from the tip burning him. He stumbled around a bed and to a wall, where he slumped there. I walked towards him, and he stumbled off the wall, and fell down beside the bed. At this point, I pointed the sword at him and shouted 'Die!", holding back tears. He looked up, a pained look in his eyes, pleading to be given mercy... but I didn't give it to him. Still pointing the sword, I told him to die a few more times, hoping that I'd be able to let him pass on peacefully.
