Nightmare

In my first dream, I'm sitting on this park bench with this man. Somewhere, the corner of my brain concerned with reality tells me he's not real but I don't listen. All i know is, that this man right here, is where the waiting paid off. This is where all that hard learned patience stopped at. Dream me knows that I love this man sitting beside me more than anybody else in the whole world, and that he's the one I've dedicated to spending the rest of my existance with. He's telling me about some things. He's worried. He tells me of his hopes, his fears. He's scared that his father will refuse to acknowledge him if he chooses to forge his own path the way he wants to, instead of following in his fathers footsteps and taking a position in the family business. With him, I feel secure and confident. I have never felt so sure of myself in my whole life. With this guy, I know, there's no need to play pretend. There's no games involved. I can be exactly the person I am and he'll love me all the more for it...

As we're talking,minutes pass by and we're unaware of the the time passing, until right then, there's a loud noise. A noise I can't remember the details of, except that it was loud and ominous sounding.

And then,as we turn in shock,we see people turning the corner, running. Running as if their lives depended on it.

And then, as I whirl my head, I spy four men clad in black.wearing these wierd clothes that look more like something a CIA assasin would wear, and my heart sinks. My subconscious can't put a finger on it, but dream me knows this is bad. Very bad.

Beads of sweat start to form on my forehead as recognition hits me hard, like a ton of bricks wallopped right in my stomach. I know who these people are. I know what they want. I know exactly what they want.

And that's us. Dead.

I tug at his hand, that of the one dream-me loves, and pull him to his feet. He whirls his head in confusion and sees what made me react the way I did. His eyes open wide, and he says just one little word:

Run.

We both break into a sprint, a mad dash with our hands still clasped tightly. No matter what happens, there's no way we're letting go. Not of each other. So we run, and we run. We dash across the pavement and into the woods within the parkland. We run across the overgrown path, moving in zig zags, trying to dodge the bullets that are fired our way every time we come into their line of vision. We run as fast as we can, the fear pumping adrenaline into our veins, and as another bullet is fired not too far from us, I think to myself, mad with fright,in a single selfish thought : 'Please. If it's going to be somebody, let it be me. Don't let him get hurt. If You're going to take one of us here, save HIM. Do not let him be taken away from me right before my eyes'.

We reach the end of the woods and we're back onto the main path. The gate is less than a mad dash away so we head insitinctively towards it. They're still behind us, too far to fire, but close enough to watch us. In a crazy move, we join a throng of people screaming and running into an empty storage building with lots of floors. For the rest of the duration of my dream, we and many others run like crazy up and down stairwells and empty corridors, and after we eventually get chased down the basement by the gunmen, we're trapped. There's one vent through which many others are escaping before the gunmen run down the many flights of stairs and corner us, and I'm willing him to go up and hurry, there's no time, the men are almost at the door. I can hear their voices through the thin walls of the basement, they'll be banging down the door any minute. But he won't. He just bloody well won't. There's too many scrambling for the safety of the vent and there's no time for both of us to claw our way through and make our way up the duct. And he says he won't leave me. He's not going anywhere. Oh God, he won't leave. My heart starts to bang against the walls of my chest as panic and fear begin to cave in. He looks just as scared as I am. He does the only thing that makes sense to him at that moment. He brings me close to him and holds me tight. Holds me close and burries his face in my hair and I can feel his heart pounding just as hard as mine as. He lifts his head and looks into my eyes, peers deep as if somehow my face showed a window to my soul. But something tells me he doesn't need a window. He sees my soul just fine without it. And then, he says just three little words before he hugs me tight again, his face burried in my hair and mine against his chest, breathing in his scent as the doors fling open and are beaten down. Says them in a faint whisper, so low only I can hear. And I can hear them loud and clear.

'I love you'...