East Elm Street.

The alarm woke me suddenly with a ring I was not familiar with.  I look out my window and the sun has not yet risen.  Did I set the alarm for the wrong time last night? I try to lift my arm and realize it does not exist.  In fact, none of my limbs existed, nor did my body.  I had woken up as something that obviously was not human.  Looking around, I noticed long yellow jackets were hung up along the right wall, along with helmets and boots.  There was a pole leading to the floor above.  Now how could I have possibly woken up like this? 
All of a sudden, men frantically come from all directions, dodging each other to avoid accidents, and rush to throw on their jackets and jump into their boots.  One of them opens up something that feels like it should be where my ear is located.  That's funny, I didn't realize that was possible, either.Men continue to open what seem like doors.  Scratch that thought, how is it possible?  It isn’t.  What I’m experiencing right now is pure denial. 

Vertigo.  I feel a sweeping movement and suddenly my legs are in motion.  Is it possible for legs to feel as though they are spinning?  A sound comes from my throat that I wasn’t even aware was physically possible.  How have I completely lost control of all bodily functions?  It would be one thing if I were completely numb and couldn’t move a muscle, but to feel as though someone else was in control of my own body just felt unnatural and disturbing.  I run down—or rather spin down—a road I was all too familiar with.  East Elm Street: the street I have lived on since I was born.  The obnoxious noise still remains, sounding as loud as a… fire truck siren?  I stop in front of a cute, blue house with white shutters.  Picturesque.  My house.  Fire shoots out through every window and smoke engulfs the surrounding area.  Cries come from inside as the men with yellow jackets and big, black boots run inside.  My hair comes undone as some of the men pull out what looks like a hose.  Hours pass.  The fire still lives.  This is some dream, or is it?