My Dream 9.25.15

Excitement filled my body. Pure, enthusiasm. Going to a house of terror is always fun for me. Fast forward.
We're split into groups of 5. 3 boys, 1 girl and I. These kids never seemed to like me, but today they seemed different. Almost as excited as I was, they couldn't help but talk to me and laugh.
As we're walking through the house, walls of white, long hallways and velvet carpet, slight terror runs through my head. My vision flashes, I am in a classroom. Flashbacks of class before coming to the house. Children laughing hysterically, yet I do not know why. I shake it off. My vision comes back.
We enter a room with a giant curve staircase running up the wall to my right. A glass chandelier in the middle of the room, dangling from the ceiling. I run up the stairs with the girl and one of the boys. The chaperone and house guide tell us to stop running and be careful because the house is very old. The house guide looks old and scary. The way a haunted house tour guide would look if it were Halloween and they were planning to pop out from around the corner.
At the top of the staircase, between two banisters, there is a gap. The gap looks as though it was put there by accident. As if someone were pushed down. I laugh, chuckling and mocking the though-of situation. "Hey guys, look," I said with my foot over the ledge. The boy next to me laughs so hard he begins crying. The tour guide chuckles, "the house moves, you know. The staircase will catch you." Being gullible, I test this theory, Acting as if I were going to fall. The staircase is still. I reply jokingly, "Haha, liar. I know that trick, satan."
The air chills. The tour guide glares at me. Fog begins to rise from the floor. The back door slams open. I whisper to the boy next to me the first thing that pops into my head, "satan."
My vision flashes again. A body on the floor, blood everywhere. All sources point toward the gap at the top of the staircase. Flashbacks of the classroom again. Papers being thrown. Kids calling each other profanities. My vision comes back.
From the door emerges dark figures. Two of them being wolf-like creatures, the other two being giant men with red eyes. I scream and run for the door. I grab something sharp and begin to run, slashing the figures throats as I run out the door. I exit into a staircase. The staircase has metal rails and short steps. The staircase almost resembles that of a school. My mind doesn't think straight enough to figure out why there is such a stairwell in a haunted house. What else should a kid expect in a haunted house while getting chased by satanic goons?
I make my way out of the staircase, out into a park, greeted by one of the kids that was in my group. "Hahaha. What are you looking at, freak?" My vision slurs. Why is he making fun of me? "You're such a creep. Did you take your medicine this morning, freak?" What is he talking about? We were just laughing together at the haunted house. He begins to yell, while pointing and laughing at me, mocking the sounds I made while running out of the building.
My vision blurs. I'm in front of a school. My hands covered in blood, holding a piece of glass. I think to myself, "what is this?" Flashback's after the girl's body on the floor, head cracked open and blood everywhere. Flashbacks of how hard I pushed her to be able to break the staircase in the auditorium and watch her fall to her death. The faces around me filled with terror. The boy beginning to cry. Flashbacks of throwing that same boys' body in front of mine when the police dog tried to attack and police began to point their laser-sighted snipers, shielding myself with him. Flashbacks of running out, slashing the other 2 boys' throats on the way out, thinking they were Satanists trying to sacrifice my body to the dark figures.
My hands are drenched in blood.
"Hey, schizoid. Aren't you gunna say something? Or are you just gunna stand there like a little schitzophrenic freak? Schizoid. Schizoid. Schizoid." He began again. I dropped the piece of glass, sat on the ground and held my legs up to my chest. Everything around me began to fade, the last thing to fade being the faint sound of the boy's voice.
"schizoid"

The credits rolled.