You've spent a hard day on the road, driving as fast as you can from the life you lead. It's all gone wrong and you don't know where to turn, but you can feel your eyes closing as you slowly drift in and out of consciousness and you know that if you don't sleep soon you'll just be another statistic in tomorrow morning's newspapers. You pull over at the first motel you see, paying little attention to the empty car park or the ominous house on the hill casting its menacing black shadow. What you need is a nice relaxing shower - don't worry about the hole bored into the wall, the manager just likes to keep a close eye on things - but what's this? There's blood all over the floor - the shower curtain is bundled up on the tiles soaking in a puddle of what can only be. . . . Mother? MOTHER! And then you wake up.
It's OK, you're at home but maybe you shouldn't have stayed up all night watching Hitchcock - you'd better take a shower and get ready for work. All you need to do now is figure out why there are bloody hand prints all over the shower curtain? It was just a dream wasn't it? Mwahahahahahahaha.
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