Last night's dream affected me all day, because of the moral issue.  The first part was something about two houses and being in class.  And there was something with my boyfriend Jeremy.  Memory lost because the second part of the dream was so vivid.  I and two others, and a friend of a friend named Ann.  I was going to drive her to get something.  I left her at the car because I'd forgotten something.  There was an assembly in a multipurpose room like from elementary school.  John, who runs the dining hall at my college was guarding the doors.  There were four or six men of a mob-like gang.  The leader was named Vinni; he was short, and wearing a white suit.  I was headed for the cafeteria when someone of authority called out, "Don't let them in!"  One, two, three men stepped up before John, one on each side.  Vinni was following behind me.  Not sure what he was after.  I thought about slipping in through the door, but thought that it might entice Vinni to try the same thing, even though he was probably already planning on doing so, as John was occupied with henchmen.  All that was on my mind was what was said, of preventing him entrance.  I knew somehow that it would pose a great danger with so many people inside.  I turned around and stabbed Vinni right in the gut, with a screwdriver.  Twisted it about a couple of times, surprised at the lack of resistance and friction.  He fell, and I silently, as if in a trance, ignored the awes from the assembly and entered.  I turned right and walked up the aisle with so many eyes upon me.  Remorse was already in me, and I knelt, crossed my chest like a Catholic, and prayed.  Not at all feeling absolved, of course, for such a massive sin, even if in the name of good.  As I did so I heard someone from the assembly audience say, "At least she's got morals."  I crossed my chest again and stood up.  I did not bear to look back at the audience, for I was in no way proud of what I'd done.  I had done it, obviously, without thinking anything but that he could NOT get into that assembly.  I continued my silent, trance-like walk up the aisle, and sat down amongst the others on the floor.  I got my sweater-drying rack and something else, and I thought about checking my laundry, that I'd forgotten about it.  Then I was in a greenish room, I suppose like my paternal Grandma Fay's bedroom.  I was on the floor to the right of the bed, and my boyfriend Jeremy was sitting on a chair next to the bed.  I felt bad for the murder but I was glad to have the guilt on my head, not Jeremy's- as if the former part of the dream was 'redone'.