It ended with me dropping to my knees in horror at the scene before me.
Calling out to my “Daddy”, who has been dead since I was five…
How did it begin?
Like my latest dreams of exploration and adventure as of late.
A few occupiers getting together for a trip to some national convergence to share ideas and meet complete strangers and spread happiness and knowledge.
Although, this time we met in the red brick city building…
I realize now, it was a building from the two worst nightmares I ever had in my youth.
There were soldiers in formation all around the city.
It seemed normal enough.
They would march around with their guns at their shoulders and bayonets at the tip.
They would order us off the sidewalks while marching by and we would oblige until they passed.
One day there was a shooting down the street.
Since the convergence was in town, the public blamed the Occupiers for the killing.
Even though crazy people kill people every day…
It had nothing to do with us and our peaceful meeting.
The last day of our gathering, there was chaos all around us.
The soldiers and government officials came to the building and told us to “get our people indoors”.
We were locked in for “our safety”… “our protection”…
This building was around eight stories high.
Each floor crammed with people from all over.
We tried to continue on our main events, but there was no room and we were all very concerned.
I went to the highest floor where I found the brick walls had fallen away in some places.
Exposing the city and the gray sky.
Everyone was trying to watch something happening in the streets.
There was a television set barking off exactly what was happening on the streets below us.
Some watched the tv.
Others stared in horror out of the giant holes where the bricks should have been.
People started pushing each other in the crowded room.
A few soldiers were in the group of people, pushing and smiling gleefully at the amount of pain they were causing some individuals.
We’d been infiltrated by chaos-causing government employees.
One even dressed in a big blue furry mascot costume claiming to be “Mr. Radical”. Making a mockery of us, of course.
The tv turned off and people thinned out.
Most of them went down the stairs to escape the confusion.
I walked over to look out beyond the brick wall and found myself to be horrified along with the others.
There were bodies all over the streets.
Some had been deceased longer than others.
But the people alive down below were soldiers and regular people trying to clean up the mess somehow.
Scrambling to make all the dead bodies disappear.
Pausing every few moments to grab their faces and scream out in an indescribable emotion.
They didn’t want to touch the dead bodies for fear of a more concrete reality on the matter.
So they all had pitchforks.
I stared in horror at them…
Them… not knowing what else to do but continuously stab the bodies and cry out while the streets began to flood with a river of blood.
I found myself slowly dropping to my knees, while I watched a man attempting to cover older bodies with fresh new ones because he was tired of looking at them.
I called out for my absent father until I awoke.
I try to shake the dream and its content from my head, but it had so much meaning behind it.
I could even feel the air in the dream.
Fresh, cold, and wet like it’d just rained.
I need to make some tea…