Last Night I dreamt....

8 Stories tall.
This tower is 8 stories tall.
I know that, because I created it floor by floor as I ran from the 8th floor down, in flight.
The man chasing me from the top floor wants to destroy me.
He was sleeping at first.
And I told him nothing.
He heard me outside the room.
He flung his legs out of bed. He stood up and seeing me through the wall outside of his room, he took a breath in and he grew to where his lower lumbar was flush against the ceiling. He brought plaster with him as he navigated the efficiency to fly open the door. Roaring, I heard him coming, could somehow see him through the walls, and I bolted. Flinging my things down the stairwell beneath me.
The electricity flashes off and on, and I catch my arms, ribs, knees and head on the wet mortar walls and the rocky pathway trying to see, tripping on moss, slipping on decayed earth.
I hear the beating of wings, only I know it's his eyes.
I think I must be at least 3 floors ahead of him.
My heart breaks for him but I cannot allow him to catch me.
When I crash into the exit
The sun has gone and I run through the wet grass, dodging moonlight, heading for trees and then I hear screaming. Constant screaming.