dreams of death and dying
last night i dreamt i brutally murdered someone. i can’t remember now if i dreamt the actual act of the murder, or if i just knew that i had murdered someone. nonetheless, i know that i dreamt i gruesomely torture/murdered someone. i don’t know why i did it. in my waking life, the guy was a stranger.
i thought about never telling anyone. i thought maybe i could get away with it. and then i realized how careless and brutal and gruesome it had been. i hadn’t taken any precautions. i realized i would get caught. i realized i had done something wrong and deserved to die for it.
i started driving recklessly. i considered wrecking the car and killing myself. then i realized how terrible it would be if i didn’t die but instead got seriously injured and then had to still stand trial for murder. i couldn’t risk it. so then i started jumping in front of cars. they ran over me, but i did not get hurt.
i called my mom. i was with my mom. i told her that i had done something terrible. i cried. i told her i killed someone and that i deserved to die. she was so sad, but she respected me for admitting my terrible act and agreed that, although she did not want me to die, i needed to pay the price of death. i was to turn myself in.
i was at my mom’s house. home alone. i gathered the evidence. the detectives were on their way. i set the proof of the murder in the garage, i remember car parts. i went through the house and kept finding sheets of paper. on every piece of paper i wrote lines in colored pencil, “I’m sorry mom. I love you so much. This has nothing to do with how you raised me. You did a good job. I messed up. I’m so sorry. I love you.”
My mom called me and told me the detectives were outside. i showed them into the garage. did i look like a murder? so kind and hospitable? did they feel safe? could they believe it?
i was in a large building. the courthouse, i think. i was with my mom. i knew that when i walked outside i was to be shot and killed. I hugged my mom. She was upset. She walked outside with me but then said she could not watch. I walked toward the army tank. Kelly was in her army uniform. She pointed her gun to my head.
I thought about dying. I wondered if it would be quick. If it would be painful. I wondered if it would be peaceful. I wondered if I would pay for the wrong I had done. I wondered if there was something terrible ahead. I wondered about the wonder.
I was shot in the head. I felt nothing. I did not feel “death,” I did not feel “dying.” I did not feel joy or pain or relieve. I felt nothing. I woke up.