Our Own Little Islands

This dream happened a while back. Like other times, where it takes a simple movement or thought to trigger a replay in my head of a dream that I had not remembered perhaps since the morning I woke up from it, this one came back randomly while driving with a friend. It is the connections in the dream that I am fuzzy on, but I will try and paint the picture as best I can.

I lived in a place where each house was its own little island. We were out in the ocean and had to travel between houses by boat. These weren't little tropical houses, but normal, in-land houses on a piece of land that stuck out of the ocean but had no beach, it just cut off.

I went to visit my friend in his house. It was the length of a small house and had no inner walls. The outside walls were of old barn wood and there were planks missing in the walls and more missing from the roof. I tried to share his enthusiasm as he showed me around. I suggested fixing up the place and making it more sturdy, but he was content with how it was and how it fit in with his life.

After a little while I felt a storm coming, like a drop in barometric pressure that could slap you across the face. I stepped outside and could see the horizon darkening. A big storm was coming and where we lived that meant a hurricane.

I rushed inside to grab my friend and run to a more secure location, but he wouldn't come. He tried to brush of my insistence with confidence in his house and his desire to wait the storm out there. All my pleading with my dear friend got me nowhere and the winds only got worse. It got to the point where I knew if I risked the storm any further, I would die, too.

I sped home. My home was small but made of bricks. I grabbed a few things and then headed outside. It was hard to get back on the wave-runner I was using because the waves were tossing it around, but I eventually was able to mount it and head toward the mainland.

The storm overtook me before I could make it to the shelter of the mainland. I came across a fast-food place and ran inside, seeking what shelter I could find. The walls were mostly windows, as most fast-food places are, but it was better than being caught out on open water.

As I entered, I tried to shout at people to take cover, but for some reason they just wanted to watch the clouds darken outside and the wind rip the leaves off trees. Did they think the glass was going to save them from the storm?

In attempt to save myself and the child that I was protecting, we hid behind one of the half-walls they have in the seating area. (I do not remember if she had been with me the whole time, if I picked her up at the house, or if she found me in the restaurant, but at this time I distinctly remember her being there and me doing everything I could to protect this precious child.) Something finally broke the glass and the screaming began. glass was flying everywhere, but we were sheltered from the worst of it. I found a door that lead to a storage closet and hid in there til the worst had passed.

The next thing I remember is racing inland to find my family. I knew that chaos would soon break loose on the main-land because of the storm. I ran with the child to find my mother at a super-mall.

The mall had many stories of shops and a complex system of ramps and pathways between the individual shops. I was surprised that I could find my mother at all in the maze of merchandise.

I found her with my elder sister and quickly explained the situation. We rushed to find my youngest brother. We were fortunate to find him quickly, but had more difficulty finding my middle brother.

We finally found him. He had transformed himself into a mannequin! I think he was trying to practice his stealth and observe others unnoticed. I was infuriated!

The mall was already filled with chaos. People were running from one direction to another, things were burning and mobs were forming.

I yelled at him and told him to change himself back immediately. As soon as he realized what was happening, you could see it in his eyes. We stepped back so he could change back.

In that moment, things happened so quickly I could not intervene. A small mob came up, picked up the mannequin that was my brother and threw him over one of the walkway ledges!!!

"GABRIEL!!!!!" I screamed.

I leaned over the rail in time to see him shatter into pieces. My heart was breaking. He was so close and I couldn't save him. If I had only made it there just a moment sooner he would still be alive. My brother would still be with us, not lying in pieces beneath us being trampled by those running mindlessly in the chaos, if I had only done better.

We had to move on.

With tears held back, I urged the rest of my family onward. I had to be strong and not fail the others.

In exiting the building, we dodged other things being thrown from higher levels. At one point we were nearly smashed by a large Christmas tree. We made it out only to see that chaos had enveloped everything, everywhere.

My sister, my mother and I talked as my brother held the child I carried with me. We pulled our money together and knew what we had to do.

There was an island a distance from the shore where we knew that there would be safety to be found. I don't know what was different about this island, but there was hope, and that was more than we had here.

We all walked to the end of this pier, pushing our way past others who also knew that there was hope on this island. Because of the demand for watercraft, with all the money we had, all we could purchase was a small waverunner and enough gas for one trip out there.

I stood there, holding the hands of my mother and sister. We held our heads high as we shouted words of encouragement to my brother. He held the baby and looked back over his shoulder with tears in his eyes. One last look. Then he started up the small waverunner that was all we could afford and headed toward the island.

We were able to give hope to him and the child and that was as much as we could do. Death eventually awaited us on the mainland, but that was not nearly as painful as the regret of wishing we could be there for my little brother and the child in the life we hoped they'd find.

Hell in a Street Sign

So, just so you get an example of some of my dreams that don't make sense, I thought I'd tell you about one from the other night.

We had Hell contained in an old, metal street sign that had been shot a few times with a shotgun. I don't know how or why, but we had somehow managed to contain Hell into this sign, and the only way to keep it contained in there was to hit it with these other metal-like things. It made an aggravating noise even for human ears, but it was keeping Hell in.

We were in a house and people were running all around, trying to keep the minions of Hell from getting inside and releasing it from the sign. I wasn't involved with the fighting, I had to make sure that Hell didn't get out. At one point during the fighting, we were not doing so well, so my friend and I, in charge of the sign and keeping Hell in, took it and hid in this food pantry.

The next thing I know, I am fixing a dryer. There was a hole in the thing that tumbles the clothes and clothes kept getting wedged in between the tumbler and the base. So, I had to reach in and pull out a a brightly striped sock so that it would tumble again. I knew it was almost pointless because more clothes were just going to get jammed in there if we didn't plug the hole.

It's random. I know. This is how they usually are, so I don't post them all. I just thought I'd give you a glimpse on what it's like normally.

Just Because It's Good, Does It Mean That It's Right?

Piecing together my dream last night was kind of difficult because there are a few snippets that I don’t know where they really began or ended and where they fit in. However, even leaving some of those out, it was still pretty interesting.

My dream began as I was part of a family party out on this great expanse of green grass. It was obvious that it was set up for a wedding but that seemed to not have happened. I left the party and walked toward a house that was atop of the hill of grass.

Once inside, I went down a square stairwell that lead to the cellar. There, I encountered two young Irish teenage boys. We started talking and they flirted with me for a while and it was nice. Then their demeanor changed and they were trying to get me to do something. I didn’t understand exactly what it was that they wanted, but I knew that it scared me.

I ran passed them and out the door. The door had changed and now lead me out into an old village square where the roads were dirt and people were driving wagons. I was in a long skirt and had to pick it up to run. I ran around the central park and stopped short as a wagon with two men in it stopped in my path and came after me.

I darted into a store that was selling produce. I ran past barrels and crates displaying fruits and vegetables. When I had gotten to the end of them, the fruit was being displayed under lights and with sprinkler systems for watering them. The floor was also tiled and there were checkout stands between me and the automatic front doors.

I ran outside and jumped in a car with some friends and started driving away. We were calm, feeling as if the danger had passed. When we stopped for some pedestrians in the street, I saw two young men about my age that I recognized as friends walking up behind our car. They were both what I knew could be considered trustworthy as well as charming. I realized that they would be the perfect set up if someone wanted to capture me and convince me to do that which I was running from because I felt it wasn’t right. I told the driver to speed up and swerve around the passengers. As he did, the two walking behind us got angry and started running toward us.

A chase ensued. It was classic in the weaving in and out of traffic, around building and swerving to try to lose our pursuers. Then the dream faded.

I reentered my dream at a point where we were still being chased. However, we were now in hovercraft-type vehicles. Our craft dodged in and out of giant, fallen statues and toppled sky-scrapers. Again, the dream faded.

When I again reentered my dream, I had been caught. I was being taken before the man that was leading this movement, this idea that I was running from and fighting against. We were on his spaceship and there was a great view of the stars behind him. He was wearing a cape that almost made me laugh out loud. He interrogated me and tried to get me to crack, but I held strong. I looked down on him as he drew closer to yell into my face. My eyes and heart held firm and he got no information out of me.

He sent me back to my cell with one of his lead men. Apparently I was not to be trusted. When I was placed back in my cell, the man of considerable rank, who escorted me, entered as well. He quickly showed me some information on a screen in the wall. I knew that this was information vital for my escape and to help others.

I looked again at the man who was helping me. I realized that he had helped me before. In each of the different time periods that I had been in, I had been caught. And each time, this man had passed me information and helped me escape.

To cover our exchange of information, we had to make it look like he was taking advantage of me when the guard looked in. After there was a witness, he slipped out of the room and I was able to escape.

There was more time that I spent running through tunnels and avoiding those under this man’s influence. It was so bad that the entire government was turned. I was able to find other groups of people like me and pass on the information that I had received.

At one point when I turned a corner I ran head on into a group of “police” troops. They were covered from head to toe in a suit of solid colors. Built into the suit was armor and weaponry. Each different shade was used to denote rank and, in some ways, personal identity.

In a split second I was pelting out the nearest exit into the street. All the speed that my legs could produce and all the experience and agility built into my lean, trial hardened body were not enough to save me from the ambush that awaited me.

Troops circled the cemented area right outside the opening that I had exited. I froze. For a moment I tried to figure out how I could take some of them with me and end up dying instead of being turned. I knew that brainwashing was what awaited me if I were caught alive again.

I never had a chance to die. I was hit with a blast from one of them that knocked me out. The only impression was of me, lying on the ground looking up. It was as if someone had drawn a mark on me. There was a ring shining on my head with a straight line down the centerline to my navel. Where the line crossed the shoulders was a perpendicular line that had two shorter lines extending downward about where the line reached the deltoids. There was a second line perpendicular to the centerline that was shorter than the first and about heart level. This whole mark was drawn in bright red light. I knew once I felt it on me that there was no hope of saving the real me. Then there was nothingness.

I woke up.

I was upright, alert, dressed in a bright red uniform and had a weapon in my hand. I was facing two similarly dressed individuals. One was in dark purple and the other in dark green. I recognized them as my friends that chased me at first. I felt the excitement that my friends felt that I had finally joined. I felt a strong feeling that what I was a part of now was right. It was for the good of everybody, if only they’d see, if only they’d join. The power and the good that this movement could do was amazing!

I now lead a troop of soldiers through the underground tunnels that I knew so intimately. It felt so right to be leading them so that others could be shone the light and any resistance could be distinguished. Turning right and left, with every step I knew I was doing that which was right, that which would help the cause.

It wasn’t until I was holding a gun and cornering a family in one of the tunnels and looking into the frightened faces of the children and the defiant look on the parents’ faces- faces that I knew personally- that I faltered in my new found direction.

Was this path right? Was it good for me to force people to take it? Just because it could do good, did it mean it was morally right?