it's my imagination

I'm driving home. I live in a big house in the country, and mine is the last house on my road. As I approach my street, I see fire trucks, cars, people running around, and the house next to mine is on fire. In fact, all of the houses along the street have been bombed and mine is the last standing.

I am in the house and the phone rings. It's 911 and the dispatcher is acting like I called him. I tell him that my house is going to be bombed and he's telling me to be calm but the line goes dead. I realize he is the bomber and I only have a minute to get everyone out of the house. I yell at my sisters to run. I see them sprinting out the sliding glass doors. I am frantically looking for my cats and running at the same time. Just as I get ten feet away from the house, I turn around. The house explodes--fire and glass are flying in the air and my cats are leaping toward me, fur on fire...