Again
I was alone in the house when the soldiers came. I was in the kitchen of this house. It was now.
I knew it was the soldiers as soon as I heard them outside the back door and as I pounded past the doorway I could see their camouflage colours through the glass.
I ran upstairs and locked myself in the bathroom, thinking that would delay them for a few seconds at least.
My mobile phone happened to be on the bathroom floor. It was switched on. I wondered whether I should bother switching it off.
These bloody soldiers have been coming to get me in my dreams for as long as I can remember. They used to be Nazis but I notice from last night’s dream that they’ve modernised a bit.
They’ve never actually got me yet, though – the dream stops just as they’re about to. I’ve often wondered what will happen if they do.
I knew it was the soldiers as soon as I heard them outside the back door and as I pounded past the doorway I could see their camouflage colours through the glass.
I ran upstairs and locked myself in the bathroom, thinking that would delay them for a few seconds at least.
My mobile phone happened to be on the bathroom floor. It was switched on. I wondered whether I should bother switching it off.
These bloody soldiers have been coming to get me in my dreams for as long as I can remember. They used to be Nazis but I notice from last night’s dream that they’ve modernised a bit.
They’ve never actually got me yet, though – the dream stops just as they’re about to. I’ve often wondered what will happen if they do.
posted by Daphne at 9:10 am
1 Comments:
One reason I knew I was depressed was because I kept trying to work out, when we were herded into the mass grave to be shot, whether I should hold the children up so that they could be shot *cleanly*, or try to hide them under the bodies around us so that someone could find them and help them escape after I'd been shot myself.
I've been wondering this intermittently since my teens, and I've never figured it out.
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