March 10, 2013

  • Dream Entry

    I hope the world never works the way my brain worked last night.  

    I was taking part in an event where you could relive a school shooting.  I'm not sure why I signed up for this.  I always end up doing this to myself.  I see the headlines. I never click on the link to read the story.  I don't want to know.  I ignore the who and the why for as long as possible.  Then I break.  And when I break, boy do I break.

    For example, after the Movie Theater Shooting I waited at least 2 weeks before watching any news.  Then I saw one link about cell phone footage inside the theater.  Then I watched all the interviews with people who survived.  Then I listened to the police radio.  Then I watched interviews with family members of those that were killed.  I just kept going.  I cried for two days.  

    Then The Sandy Hook shooting happened.  I have refused to watch anything!  I will not.  It happened.  I can't change it.  I can't deal with it.  I will not.  As a result my brain has given me this most recent nightmare.  

    As we walk into the school.  The children are in there rooms.  The teachers are going through their lessons.  Our group is ushered through a hallway as witnesses to the regularity, at first.  Then the emergency sets in.  The students are told to be deathly quiet.  Very hard for the little ones.  I see them as they struggle to keep their footsteps silent.  The classes held in unsafe places are ushered into the hall with us, and we are told to follow and stay quiet.  When we get to the place where it is thought we will be able to most effectively hide we sit against a wall.   Someone in charge, a teacher or principle sits down beside me.  He tells me the shooter is getting nearer.  Am I ready?  I'm in a sad state to tell the truth.  I'm asking myself why in the world!  A few people I know are sitting on my other side.  They seem to be doing better with the idea of reliving this.  We hear heavy footfalls.  The teacher says it's time to move.  We head into a dark room with walls you would be able to see through if the lights were on.  I guess their thought was we would be aware of where the shooter was.  Not particularly something I needed to be aware of.  Most of the group I was with went to the opposing wall, and sat on the couch all along it.  I laid down against the nearest wall.  The teacher was the last one in, laying close to me feet near the door.  We began to hear his voice.  He was coming for us.  Getting closer. And closer.  Calling us to our deaths.  This was the moment I realized some of us were going to die.  Maybe me.  Some of those children were going to die. 

    When I woke up.  I had a moment where I was upset that my dream was not finished.  Then I was extremely relieved my dream was cut short.  When I was dreaming I knew the words the shooter was shouting.  I knew they were haunting.  They were disturbing.  When I awoke.  I could not place them.  This gave me the same feeling.  I wish I remembered them, but then again.  Maybe it's best I don't remember.  

    Leah K.