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?