dreams.

Earlier this past semester, I had two rather peculiar dreams.

In the first dream, I killed someone.

Now, this was no accident. I had a plan, I had the intent, and I carried through. Long-story(dream?)-short, I woke up remembering the distinct sensation of fighting and grappling with another man, wrestling him to the floor, and attempting to slice his neck open with a razor as he laughed in my face, calling me too weak to take a life.

He was wrong, of course. I finally felt his skin give and the blade punctured his vital arteries as easily as sticking a sewing needle through cotton.


Interestingly enough, a few nights later, I dreamed I was the one being murdered. I was in a room, attempting to defend someone from a gunman. He grabbed me and dragged me out the door into the hallway and threw me down. As I looked up at him, he pointed his pistol at me, and next thing I knew, there was a dreadfully loud "BANG" and I felt a rather blunt force hit me right in the face and then everything went white. I couldn't move, couldn't speak, but I could still hear him, laughing at me. Then I hear a couple more "bangs" and a few more blows to the face, as if someone wrapped a hammer with a towel and was dropping the head on me.

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For some time afterward, I wondered if those dreams were connected in some way.

In one dream, I took a life.

In the other, my life was taken.


Hmm, spooky.