This morning I maimed and probably killed a child with a metal projectile.
Worried? Me too!
I was possibly directing and appearing in a movie in which the lead actress was Michelle Rodriguez. In the scene (or reality, not sure), I was escorting her, handcuffed, to a new holding facility... not sure why she was being held/cuffed. We were accompanied by several security guards, but that didn't ease my fear when we encountered a small group of guerrilla fighters using poor children as soldiers/bait. We came across them at the edge of a baseball field and batting cages. The evil-looking men sent the barely-dressed, hungry-looking children charging at us through the batting cages with metal boules balls (or whatever they are called... that game in which you try to roll balls closer to other balls... basically they were heavy, metal and baseball-sized). These kids were seriously sad... like straight out of a "Save Darfur" ad and maybe 8 years old. Yet there were about ten of them swarming our way and I was convinced they would succeed in killing us. So when one of the kids dropped a ball and it rolled towards me, I picked it up and threw it- hard- at the head of another kid who was sneaking up to us along the edge of the baseball field. It had a devastating effect; he fell instantly, unconscious, and blood leaked from his head. One of the evil guys ran up and checked on the child, looking worried. I was surprised that he actually seemed to care after he put this child into a dangerous situation. The battle (if you could call it that) seemed to stop; I could focus only on the boy I had just maimed. The evil dude lifted the little boy's head from the ground, revealing the gaping and bloody hole where his ear once was attached, and slowly shifted his piercing and sad gaze to meet my eyes. I couldn't move. I wondered how I could possibly have injured this helpless little guy without even thinking twice. I just threw the ball at his head, no big deal, and it wasn't his fault he was forced to attack me, and now I had probably killed him!!! Guilt-ridden, I stood there staring, willing the boy to be alive and wishing I could turn back time.
That's when my alarm clock went off (turns out I had only been asleep 5 minutes, since I had last pressed snooze). I immediately sat straight up and stared at Jazz for a little while before I went about my morning routine.
Yeah I know... the only dreams I've posted so far have been highly disturbing... :(
Hmm...well then.
ReplyDelete