Friday 12 March 2010

The dream about being shot (I blame the Criminal Minds)

Tonight I dreamed I got shot in the chest. We were on a trip in Italy or some such nice historical place and we were in this nice domed chapel, like one of the old temple-like tombs with fades walls and funny echoes. A large hillbilly-looking man was pushing and pulling his daughter around and I could see he had a small, cheap revolved in his hand to threathen her. he would never really shoot her, he was just being and arse. I knew that if I intervene, I will get shot. It's exactly what happened. We tussled and then he said 'I wasn't going to kill anyone, but if you insist...' and h shot me straight into my sternum. I was smaller in the dream and my boobs weren't so amazing and I was wearing a light summer blouse, mainly white. After I fell down and cupped my hand over the wound to make sure the blood isn't spilled, I kept the gun and put it in my pocket. Like you have to try to keep the snake or spider that bit you to help the hospital rescuers, I kept the gun. It was a small calliber, maybe a '22 and I knew that's bad. Those bullets ricochet. But it didn't hurt at all.
            My life split into two paralels at that point. One of my stories was me being transported on a gourney and into the ambulance and to surgery and I don't think in that story I was going to make it. In the other line however, I kept walking around, palm pressed fastly to my wound, full of hot blood like I grabbed a handful of warm pudding and would hold it to my chest - any wrong movement and it would spill and I would make a mess on the white blouse. Riding a bus, I went home to my parents, which were happy to see me back from my trip. We would unpack and talk and they would (they just woke up and were in their robes) go about their hastened morning rituals and all the while I felt like bragging, as if 'Look what happened to me!', needing to reap stunned and panicked reactions from them. But I didn't do it. I think by then I knew also that this was just my chance to say goodbye in my own way and get some affairs in order, before the two lifelines combine again and then ceise.