i've had dreams where people who were close to me were kidnapped or endangered in some way. i've even had ones where i died. but none of that compared with last night's feature presentation.
i was being stalked. something was after me. something big, an organization or covert group or whatever. but they didn't just want to capture me outright, they were systematically going after the people i love most in life. usually i'm able to protect them somehow - i discover i have superpowers, i fight them barehanded, i manage to get them secreted away; but these guys were good. they got to my mom first - they took her during the night from my house before i knew their plans. and they knew just where to hit next.
i got to miranda before anything happened but didn't tell her what was going on - it was partly selfish of me: i couldn't bear not being in contact with her (she being my metaphorical right hand man and in possession of half my brain, it's worthy of note). being hunted AND alone is in all honesty too much for me to take. so she went on the lam with me. we went from city to city, always managing to keep one step ahead of the bad guys. we were outrunning them and winning.
until i came back from meeting an informant one morning. had i made it through the door a second earlier, had i been just a moment faster up the elevator or weaving in between pedestrians down the street, i could've done something, leapt at him or between them, kicked his knees out or nudged his gun hand just a few inches to the right,...
but i wasn't. and i walked in mid-sentence, cheery that it was a sunny morning and we were supposedly safe for another few days before we'd have to hit the road again just in time to hear him fire the gun and watch as she was thrown backward through a glass window, crimson already blossoming across her abdomen.
and i can't much tell you what happened after that. i remember screaming and futilely trying to lunge across the room in time to catch her, but it was too late all around. the assassin didn't even bother with me - he walked right out the door without even so much as a glance my way.
i've had people taken from me before in dreams, even knowing what would imminently happen to them. i've lost family in real life, no one i was particularly close to though. but i've never actually seen someone die, much less be killed right in front of me, and i've always been able save them. i can fight gigantic monsters and beat even my fathers at their games, but whether in my dreams or in real life, i can do something. but tonight, for the first time, i was completely powerless to help one of the people i hold dearest in all the world. i had been too late, too slow, too weak, and dreams being for all intents and purposes real while one is having them, i had lost my best friend. correction: i had let her die. and all i remember clearly from the rest of the ordeal amidst the stumbling (literally) from place to place, knowing others were in danger and that i had to continue for the sake of their well-being, waking up in dingy hellholes on floors or inch-thick matresses in basement hideouts, are the feelings i had to fight down alongside my morning nausea just to make it out of bed. i felt utterly bereft, lost, without purpose or reason to fight. nothing made sense, nothing felt real. for the first time, i didn't even see the point in living, the feeling was that intense. sadness and depression, crushing guilt mixed with hopelessness and only a tenuous grasp on sanity remaining, all of which slowly mutated into a deadness inside, like i had felt too much too strongly for too long and neither my body nor mind could take it anymore.
dreams shouldn't feel this real. i can only guess how much more tangible reality is for those who know what i've only thankfully hallucinated.
i was being stalked. something was after me. something big, an organization or covert group or whatever. but they didn't just want to capture me outright, they were systematically going after the people i love most in life. usually i'm able to protect them somehow - i discover i have superpowers, i fight them barehanded, i manage to get them secreted away; but these guys were good. they got to my mom first - they took her during the night from my house before i knew their plans. and they knew just where to hit next.
i got to miranda before anything happened but didn't tell her what was going on - it was partly selfish of me: i couldn't bear not being in contact with her (she being my metaphorical right hand man and in possession of half my brain, it's worthy of note). being hunted AND alone is in all honesty too much for me to take. so she went on the lam with me. we went from city to city, always managing to keep one step ahead of the bad guys. we were outrunning them and winning.
until i came back from meeting an informant one morning. had i made it through the door a second earlier, had i been just a moment faster up the elevator or weaving in between pedestrians down the street, i could've done something, leapt at him or between them, kicked his knees out or nudged his gun hand just a few inches to the right,...
but i wasn't. and i walked in mid-sentence, cheery that it was a sunny morning and we were supposedly safe for another few days before we'd have to hit the road again just in time to hear him fire the gun and watch as she was thrown backward through a glass window, crimson already blossoming across her abdomen.
and i can't much tell you what happened after that. i remember screaming and futilely trying to lunge across the room in time to catch her, but it was too late all around. the assassin didn't even bother with me - he walked right out the door without even so much as a glance my way.
i've had people taken from me before in dreams, even knowing what would imminently happen to them. i've lost family in real life, no one i was particularly close to though. but i've never actually seen someone die, much less be killed right in front of me, and i've always been able save them. i can fight gigantic monsters and beat even my fathers at their games, but whether in my dreams or in real life, i can do something. but tonight, for the first time, i was completely powerless to help one of the people i hold dearest in all the world. i had been too late, too slow, too weak, and dreams being for all intents and purposes real while one is having them, i had lost my best friend. correction: i had let her die. and all i remember clearly from the rest of the ordeal amidst the stumbling (literally) from place to place, knowing others were in danger and that i had to continue for the sake of their well-being, waking up in dingy hellholes on floors or inch-thick matresses in basement hideouts, are the feelings i had to fight down alongside my morning nausea just to make it out of bed. i felt utterly bereft, lost, without purpose or reason to fight. nothing made sense, nothing felt real. for the first time, i didn't even see the point in living, the feeling was that intense. sadness and depression, crushing guilt mixed with hopelessness and only a tenuous grasp on sanity remaining, all of which slowly mutated into a deadness inside, like i had felt too much too strongly for too long and neither my body nor mind could take it anymore.
dreams shouldn't feel this real. i can only guess how much more tangible reality is for those who know what i've only thankfully hallucinated.