Worst. Dream. Ever. (24-hour Death Penalty)
So this particular dream was one that made me legitimately nervous throughout the entire thing which I guess can only mean one thing: I am afraid of death.
The very first thing I remember is walking around neighborhoods that reminded me of when I lived in Victoria, TX. I was apparently on my way to college. Just another day, everything seemed quite normal. Upon arrival, it was already dark outside as I walked through the empty building towards my classroom. I was late.
Walking into the classroom, I was scolded by the male teacher and was mockingly told “it would be FANTASTIC (a word I use a lot) if you wouldn’t interrupt my class again”. I guess I was having a bad day because this set me off and I got into a heated argument with him. Cursing and yelling back and forth with each other, I decided to be the bigger man and gather my things to walk out. My classmates looked on as he told me with a warning not to dare walk out on him or that I’d be sorry. I politely turned to give him a nice middle finger salute and I walked out then and there.
Now I’m in a van. Traveling around and looking for the next sleep spot for the night with Look Mexico. Again it’s nighttime and we’re very close to a beach. We find a small motel that’s right on the beach and start to gather our things. We were the only vehicle parked in this very large and dark parking lot. As Ryan Smith got out and went straight to the beach, the rest of us tried to figure out how to get a room at the motel. It was also quite dark and appeared to not even be open. The whole vibe was a little odd and eventually we decided to leave. We hopped in the van and drove up front to the side facing the beach and honked for Smith to come back. We couldn’t see him and assumed he went out into the water to swim. In a random turn of events, the rest of Look Mexico decided that if he decided to just leave, that he could find us on his own and then drove off to find a new place to stay.
Fast forward to the new place. We’re already parked and loading out when I decide that I want to take a late night stroll and possibly find Smith down by the beach. On the way, I’m stopped by a cop patrolling the area who asks what business I have being out so late. I explain that I’m looking for a friend who went to the beach so I can tell him where to come back to find the band. He tells me that they just picked someone up down at the beach and tells me to get into his cruiser. He seemed like a good cop so I did and once we started driving, he asked what my friend’s name was. Ryan Smith. He put it in his database and started a search and then proceeded to tell me that Smith had been arrested and sent down to the prison. Shocked, I asked for the cop to take me there.
Once I was there, I was allowed to go through the building and ask questions to people to find Smith. At the front desk area, they asked me my name and the person behind the counter started taking all of my information as I explained how we were traveling together in a band. After typing around, she gave me an odd look (kinda like taking a mental picture of me). Then with suspicion, told me she’d be right back. I got a bad vibe from the whole thing and made my way upstairs where the prisoners were. For some reason it was very easy to get into these different parts of the building, but every time I went through a door, it would lock from the other side for security. I ran around looking for Smith and suddenly heard a lady over the intercom tell the guards in the building to find me and arrest me on site. I started to run around the building, never running into any guards, but eventually found out that there was no way out anyway since none of the doors would open. I walked around, defeated, in the fenced-in balcony area on the second floor waiting to be found when suddenly I found Smith seated on a short set of stairs in a gray prison jumpsuit. I asked him what was happening, and he couldn’t explain it either and that he had no idea why he was arrested. Eventually, a guard found us and instead of chasing me, radioed everyone else to tell them that he’d found me. He was generally polite and didn’t handcuff me, but I knew there was nowhere to go. Smith assured me that we’d be fine and that the others would find us and figure it all out as the guard lead me back to the front desk.
I went through the whole ordeal, mugshots, finger prints, getting my jumpsuit etc etc. and then, after sitting in a small isolation room, some guards came over and opened the door. One of them entered the room with a folder that had my charges in it. He then proceeded to tell me the most ridiculous thing I had ever heard. I had been sentenced to death within the next 24 hours as prosecuted by the teacher whom I had stormed out on from the beginning of the dream.
Apparently, this guy was so fed up with me and had such a good lawyer, that they managed to get me this most extreme ruling without a trial. Stunned, I didn’t know what to do at all. I remember then, being sent to a long conference looking room. The lights were off, but the wall at the end of the room was made up of large windows and morning was arriving. Not quite the sun, but the faint shades of blue starting to show. Enter a man with a fancy suit and a briefcase. He sat opposite me and took a seat and began to explain that he was the teacher’s lawyer. I barely gave him time to say more before demanding to know how this was happening. Ignoring me, he told me there was no way around and left me papers to fill out my “final statements” on. He then repeated the sentence and looked at his watch telling me how many hours I had left to live. He left and I took a moment to gather myself. I was fuming and couldn’t think straight anymore. I finally got up to read the papers he left. They were so absurd and condescending that I crumpled them up and heaved em across the room and left.
I couldn’t contact anyone. I walked around the fairly quiet prison still without handcuffs and asked around if there was any way I could get help. The guards, the desk workers and everyone around me were fairly nice people. They explained options I had, but never gave me any kind of assurance or hope. Just explained things in a civil manner and tried helping in contacting people I knew. Hours went by and no one answered the calls. The whole time I’m thinking there’s no way this is going to happen and that it’s all too ridiculous and illegal in the first place. It wasn’t about until the 20th hour had gone by that I was starting to lose control. I had been in the prison all day and no one was answering my calls for help. My mind was racing and I couldn’t clearly think of what to do next. Then, a lady at the front desk asked me if I’d like to leave. I was a little dumbfounded so I only said “what?”. She then explained that it was all still unavoidable, but that if I wished, I could leave the prison with a tracking device strapped to my arm to get out into the world and make one last attempt at finding someone. Not really seeing anything better in the option, I agreed. They strapped me with the tracking device so that there was nowhere to hide once the time came and let me free from the building.
I never got another chance to see the sun. It was already dusk outside and I found myself walking through a big city. Again the feeling of being alone was overwhelming. There was no one around. Just me. I walked around and looked through my phone to try my luck at contacting people again. No answers. With 2 hours left, I stopped at a corner where a church-like building sat across the street. The area reminded me of the buildings I recently visited in New York. I was so depressed about the whole situation and couldn’t bare to wear my jumpsuit a second longer. I stripped it off standing around in my underwear and sat down on a stone bench looking over at the church. I could hear echos of the preacher over his intercom that bounced off the buildings around me. The wind blew through them and sitting there getting colder I wrapped myself up in my jumpsuit. I can’t imagine running into a more pathetic sight. The activity inside the church sounded like some sort of wedding.
1 hour left.
I sat on the stone bench thinking about my life and the things I had done and people I’d known. Why weren’t they calling? Answering? It saddened me and all I could do was wait now. I wouldn’t get to say goodbye to anyone. I’d be a silent death in some big city where no one knew who I was.
Just then, the church doors opened and out poured a few people chatting and laughing as they started to spread about a little deck area where tables were set up. Perhaps a reception sort of thing. Just right there outside of the doors. No one took notice of me across the street as they took their seats. I didn’t know any of those people and still not knowing what else I could do, I just sat there and watched. I looked away for a minute and when I looked back, the bride had come outside, her back turned towards me. She was getting situated and talking with the people outside. She had a small mark at the top of her shoulder blade. Perhaps a tattoo. Finally, she turned slightly and I realized it was my friend, Betsy! (Betsy was recently married to my friend Kenneth back home)
I looked around and most of the wedding party still wasn’t outside yet and I never saw Kenneth. I then realized that perhaps they could help me. Though, my mind wasn’t sure of anything there was to do. If this guy had managed to sentence me to death without any effort at all, what would make me think that there could be any way to delay it? All of this weighing on my mind, I never worked up the will to call out to Betsy. Instead, I bolted around the corner out of site and sat down against the wall completely defeated. I would hate to have any of my friends think “I wish there was something I could have done”. Especially Betsy, since she would’ve been the only person to see me, I thought that would’ve been a terrible thing to put on her shoulders on her wedding day. They’d all find out eventually and no one needed that burden. The news would shock them for a few days, but life would go on. It all felt so normal though. Like things like this happened all the time. It was terrible and heart-breaking that it was me it was happening to.
It was all the biggest bummer and most depressing feeling in the world. I couldn’t get one last good thought in at all knowing that I would be dying soon. I sat there and put my jumpsuit back on to try and keep warm and started to drift off to sleep. Almost achieving that one last goal, my tracker on my arm suddenly started to flash and buzz. There was no need to wonder. The time had come, and off in the distance, the faint sound of a siren made its way towards me…
It’s 4am now here in Virginia. I woke up after this nasty dream about 2 hours ago. What a bummer it was. I’m quite content and calm now. Of course it’s great to be alive. I never made it back down to the prison. You know how dreams are. Some of them end in the most obvious way. The tracker going off marked the end of it for me. An odd experience. Dreams seem so insignificant once you’ve had awhile to just be awake and forget about them. Thought I’d share this with you all. Any dream interpreters out there? Go nuts. I guess I’m going to go back to sleep and hope that it doesn’t happen again.
Have you had any weird dreams lately?
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joshmassie posted this
