I had a dream last night that I won't soon forget.
Daughter was a young child again of 5 or 6 years old.
We were hiding from government workers sent out to collect and then kill the citizens.
We were hiding on the floor between the bed and the wall and then under the bed. Daughter was singing. I told her that we must be quiet. She wouldn't quit singing and I remember deciding to allow her to sing because I knew we would be found and killed anyway. The fear was intense. I remember telling daughter that when they came for us to keep your eyes closed. I thought keeping our eyes closed would make it less scary. The next scene we were standing in front of the government workers/soldiers who were all pointing their guns at us. They began shooting and I knew daughter was gone. I remember thinking how I wanted to comfort her.....I went to her and the shooters began shooting at me again but....I knew I could reach her foot so I did and I kissed her foot. This enraged the lead shooter. I was glad it enraged him. I hated him. So when his rage flashed across his face I gave him the middle finger. It felt good even though I could feel the pain from having been and from being riddled with bullets. I lay there wondering why it was taking so long for me to die. I had been shot more times than I could count. I could feel the pain, and I could feel my body shutting down but it seemed to take forever...........then I woke ...........
Daughter was a young child again of 5 or 6 years old.
We were hiding from government workers sent out to collect and then kill the citizens.
We were hiding on the floor between the bed and the wall and then under the bed. Daughter was singing. I told her that we must be quiet. She wouldn't quit singing and I remember deciding to allow her to sing because I knew we would be found and killed anyway. The fear was intense. I remember telling daughter that when they came for us to keep your eyes closed. I thought keeping our eyes closed would make it less scary. The next scene we were standing in front of the government workers/soldiers who were all pointing their guns at us. They began shooting and I knew daughter was gone. I remember thinking how I wanted to comfort her.....I went to her and the shooters began shooting at me again but....I knew I could reach her foot so I did and I kissed her foot. This enraged the lead shooter. I was glad it enraged him. I hated him. So when his rage flashed across his face I gave him the middle finger. It felt good even though I could feel the pain from having been and from being riddled with bullets. I lay there wondering why it was taking so long for me to die. I had been shot more times than I could count. I could feel the pain, and I could feel my body shutting down but it seemed to take forever...........then I woke ...........
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