The Dream

 He awoke suddenly, his heart pounding as if it were trying to blast out of his chest. Groping around in the dark, he reached out to touch his wife as she lay next to him breathing calmly as she slept. He could feel beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead and suddenly noticed that his own hands were shaking. The dream, no, the nightmare was all too real, he could remember every detail, the vivid colors and even the smells. It was if he had fallen down Alice’s rabbit hole and found himself in an alien land unable to escape, screaming at the top of his lungs, yet no sound would come out. His body felt paralyzed, he couldn’t walk, run or even move, all he could do was just watch, an observer of some macabre play where the victims were all being slaughtered and there was no help for them.

 The details were fresh in his mind, they were soldiers, blue coats, surrounded and being attacked. They were outnumbered, out gunned, and there was no escape. He could see the bullets ripping through their flesh, tearing out huge chunks of bone and blood, faces being smashed in and the grayish, bloody mix of brain and bone smeared on the ground. Around these men, stood a huge, motionless crowd, he tried his best to yell at them, to urge them to help, but they all stood there as stiff and still as department store mannequins. 

 He needed now to get calm, to slow down his beating heart. Laying back down he slowly turned and put his arm around his wife. He could feel her warm body as he glided up close, her breathing slow and regular, he began to feel himself relax. The images burned into his mind were now beginning to dissipate, like a mist slowly receding into the forest and finally his eyes grew heavy and he began to drift off. Then he heard the screams.


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