Help me interpret this dream!

It's been a long time since a dream caused me anguish. But this really merits a post.
WARNING: LONG POST! The dreams were very vivid.

From last night, I can remember two dreams very clearly.
DREAM #1:
My ambition is to be a pilot. I found myself at the helm of a fairly new 737. I was chartered to take a planeful of maybe 70 or so friends down from Vegas McCarran Intl. to San Diego Intl. The copilot happened to be the person I came out of the closet to first - perhaps he showed up in my dream because I really trusted him. Anyways, everything on the flight was going smoothly. After climbing through 18,000 feet, I put the plane into autopilot cruise climb. He said that he was tired. So, not having a heavy workload, I let him take a nap in the jumpseat, at the back of the cockpit.
Before we could reach cruising altitude, both of the plane's engines lost thrust suddenly.
-
I have an addiction to the show "Mayday." You may know it as "Air Crash Investigations." Whenever I watch this show, I always ask myself "why did the pilot wait so long to tell air traffic control they have a problem?" Oh, the irony of what comes next. I now understand those pilots.
-
I only realized the engines had died when the aircraft stalled. I immediately pushed the throttles full forward and nosed down. Then I quickly ran the engine restart alone. I saw my copilot sleeping, thinking "WAKE THE :***: UP!" but not actually saying a word. I was too busy flying, I guess. I managed to restart my engines 3000 feet above the ground. But when I checked my navigation display, I was way in Mexico, far off course.
I'm not too sure what happened next. All I know is that I ran off the runway during an emergency landing and crashed into a hangar. All the passengers were detained, because no one had their passport on them (domestic flight). We called the U.S. government, who gave us a plan and set up a distraction in the airport. The Mexicans had repaired my plane for some reason, and I stole it and we (all 70 of us!) "ran away" from detainment, headed back to the states.
The dream began to shift as I was on final approach, coming in for landing in San Diego. "Oh no," I thought, "Can't I at least finish the happy ending?"

DREAM #2:
I'm in the stairwell of a 30-story hotel. The carpets were red, the walls a yellow-brown. I don't know why, but these colors really stuck out to me.
I have one thought going through my head: I must stay alive. Avoid anybody. They all want to kill you.
It gets very "Hunger Games"-esque. Through a window inset into a door (you know what I'm talking about?), I see a pack of my old school friends in the hall, walking towards me. One of them sees me, and they start running. I sprint up several flight of stairs, not stopping to look behind me. Running, running, running away from them. I come across two good friends in the stairwell. We ally really quick, and I explain that I'm running away from a pack of people. Not wanting to be caught by the mob of fifteen now running up the stairs after me, the three of us keep running, up, up, up. As we turn the corner to the last flight of stairs, there are three guys at the top landing. The two guys on either side are bullies I recognize from school. The guy in the middle is a really hot guy I'm crushing real hard for. The three of us stop, two metres away from him, halfway up the last flight of stairs. We raise our hands, to show that we are unarmed.
After a brief silence, the guy to his right says "just kill them." Nonchalantly, my crush raises a revolver in his right hand, and points it at the friend to my left. The moment I heard the first shot, I dropped to the ground. Perhaps I was trying to fake dead to stay alive. Less than a second later, he shot the guy to my right. But I didn't hear the the third shot. Was he letting me live?
A short pause. Maybe three seconds. Then I feel the bullet penetrating my skull, right in the soft spot. He had killed me. But did he hesitate?
The dream restarted. The same scenario happened. But this time, I fell to the ground looking up at him, into his eyes, my hands behind my head. I wasn't faking dead. I saw him shoot my two friends. My eyes pleaded for mercy. He lowered his gun, and looked straight at me. His eyes showed no emotion. He brought the gun up once more, and I felt the bullet straight in the middle of my forehead this time.
I don't know why, but this time the dream didn't stop. I rose, as a ghost or something, my spirit lifting out of my body. An anger, a great fury burned inside me. How could he do such a thing? He must have seen me, because he exclaimed "what the hell?" and ran through the door with his friends into the top floor corridor. I followed him, in hot pursuit. I had to get my revenge. He turned right, into the first open door, into an unoccupied room. There was a sword, a katana, resting against the door, but he didn't stop to pick it up. I did, though.
He happened to be the slowest runner in his group of three. Good for me. I took the sword, and slashed at his back. He fell to the ground. There was a deep cut, but very little blood on his otherwise perfect white shirt. I stabbed him over, and over, and over again as he screamed in pain. I was fueled by his agony, but he didn't protest. I didn't stop until he was long dead, and I had lost the energy. My life force or something dissipated, and I dissolved into thin air.
His friends had never stopped running. They didn't help him. I supposed they jumped off the balcony to another room or something. They didn't really care about him.
The dream quickly shifted to the lobby of the hotel. It was full of teens that I knew. I suppose it was the match, just before it had begun. An announcer said "and now, our 120 contestants shall begin!" Everyone started running in different directions. All I know is that I had immediately headed for the stairwell. But before I got to the door, the dream ended.

Today, I was very tired, for some strange reason. I had two hours to kill, so I wanted to take a nap. But then, I thought of this dream, and began asking myself all these questions. Why hadn't my friend woken up to help me save the plane full of people? Why had my crush shot me... twice? Why had I gone through with taking revenge on him? And, most importantly, WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE HIM?!?!?!
I spent an hour and a half crying my eyes out into my pillow over these questions, and gave up on sleep. And now, I came here to ask you guys. Maybe one of you here can help me understand what my mind is thinking. I need to sleep tonight.

:tears::tears::tears:

Thanks,

-E.F.

---------- Post added 2nd Mar 2013 at 09:14 PM ----------

Oh, and one more thing. If it helps, I fell backwards and hit the back of my head fairly hard about an hour and a half before I went to sleep. Minor concussion, bit of dizzyness, really bad headache, that's about it.

Thanks,

-E.F.